How wonderfulto feel nothingbut gratitudefor the chanceto feel loveto feel the hopethat it might last— and even thoughit didn’t—how wonderfulto feel it was worthevery stab of painevery predictabledisappointment. The treasureof memoryis more pureand more satisfyingthan what likelywould have becomethe mundane. *****DeMaris11-18-2020 “Braids” by Andrew Wyeth


OneyearagotodayI thought I had reached the limit of my love.My patiencehaving been stretched out like a rubber bandpulledpulledpulled back fartherthan the definition of endurance—intolerance finally collapsing into your cheekin the shape of my hand.And you forgave mefor hating youfor loving you so muchI could never understandwhy you only gave me hours at a time—never daysneverContinue reading “Slap”

November 17th, 2011

Impossibleto know what she was thinkingas she felt the cold gray clayin her hands for the very first time.Like the other kidsshe would have been fascinatedby the instructormaking it look easymaking it look like controlwasn’t something you had to master.But there must have been failuresbefore the bowl finally took shapespinning in her cupped hands—her fingersContinue reading “November 17th, 2011”


Slowlyis the way you forget loveeven though all-at-oncemight be your preferenceespecially if the forgettingmight save you months or yearsof living with somethingthat feels like painbut when you become awarethat the hurt is slowly diminishingthere is an inexplicable wishfor the healing to slow downto stop for a moment or twoso you can look back one lastContinue reading “Slowly”

Coming Home

After a few daysof chauffeuring my dad aroundafter outpatient surgeryI come homeexhaustedI sit down on the living room floorto take off my shoesI lay backand think about the video I watched earliera relic from the pastsent to my dadby a cousin I haven’t seen in 20 yearsit showed both my parentsbefore they were 20 yearsContinue reading “Coming Home”

What Has He Done with Our Love

I wonderwhat he did with itwhere he put it did he hide it somewhereon a shelfin a book somewhere in the houseamong the thingsno one else would notice does he think of itoftenor never I wonder if helike mekeeps it out in the open where everyone can seebut nobody knowsit’s our love like the t-shirtContinue reading “What Has He Done with Our Love”