He likes lace—the way skin shows through no matter the color—a kind of unnatural camo. The permanent She, the human She is inconsolable. The alien asks questions to puzzle piece the grief. Her face is a storm cloud and She can’t formulate. It’s no secret. No matter the pronoun, he is neither a he nor a she. Her mind on… Read more →

She is determined to see. Lock the creature in a still, share his looks with those who’ll listen. She takes a handful of diced tuna. Dabs the juice from the tin can on her collar bone. The lake is saltier than the sea, a pH between toothpaste and milk of magnesia. Salt can’t be destroyed—won’t dissipate or burn—all that can… Read more →