Exile, and the perfect shade of pink

I spent an hour with an aesthetician until I finally found a shade of pink that is the color of my mouth, only better. Smoother, richer. And then I really went overboard–

5 Cantos in Late September @ Atticus Review

I read Chapter 10, where *god* attempts a taxonomy of who he or she is, and this definition is basically a list of the most beautiful things on earth, and, by extension, the universe.  This happens in conversation with a young soldier, Arjuna, of royal birth, and the hero of the story

Requiem for Brooklyn @ Vol. 1 Brooklyn

Because once I started to let go of things, it was hard to stop. On that morning, as the sun rose, I picked up murderously sharp pieces of glass, and dropped them in a tall cardboard box, covered it up with an quilt, and placed it in the foyer, where it still sits, eight weeks later.