Amit Majmudar

January 30, 2013

The one book where we never lose our place spreads its covers to a gooseflesh Braille. We are bookmarks slipped into each other. In that book, we read each night of a couple who go without touching for hours on end; then, the dishes put away, the toddler powered down and set to charge for tomorrow, they thumb a lock and make a greenhouse where once there was a master bedroom. Orchids push open the drawers.

The Illuminator
October 19, 2012

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