Pediatric Intensive Care Unit
-
Metaphors for My Forgetful Heart
My body is a drum, its last vibration fading out. My body is a temple, serene and contemplative, all voices finally stilled. My body is a glider plane, floating on warm currents of air in the eerie, engineless quiet.
-
The Sunday Rumpus Essay: Admission of Guilt
Last summer, I nearly killed my son. It was an accident, but the guilt I live with belongs to those whose malicious deeds are intentional.