The Chronology of Water

About how girls made my skin hot.

Instead of talking. Little bird ballet. Little girl making an “L” for Lidia with her arm. Anything but speec

I still cannot bear her silence while being whipped.

ice cream hurt my head

Until I was in seventh grade.

when she was sent to the crybaby corner she would cease crying almost immediately. I can picture her leaving the wall with a face as stoic as a nun’s. Almost like an adult.

Turn to the rocks and hear seas echoed from as far away as the Ukraine.

Move away from normal but don’t notice it. Move towards excess but don’t care. Own more rocks than clothing, than dishes, than books. Lie down next to them on the floor, put the smaller ones in your mouth occasionally.

Recognize when there are no words for the pain, when there are no words for the joy, there are rocks. Fill all the clear drinking glasses in your house with rocks, no matter what your husband or lover thinks.

IF YOU HAVE EVER FUCKED UP IN YOUR LIFE, OR IF THE great river of sadness that runs through us all has touched you, then this book is for you.