Tag: up the staircase quarterly

• March 23, 2015

  Veatrice

  I could drink the thunder in some evenings,  let the roaring of it all put a rumble in my chest— holler out, and be heard. Yet I lack the grace that should be winding through my veins by way of my great-grandmother: a woman who was not once, but twice, slapped down by strikes of…
• January 23, 2014

  Split

  I draw fault lines in your quake, shaking at the symmetry in which we are divided; you are not the world I once woke to, and I am no more the earth you dug into with callused hands that craved our growth. There is only air between us, dense as it is, obscuring our views,…