Flocks in flight, Murmurations Of rippling ribbons Against rain-full skies Above the stubble fields ... [+]
In our dreams, we've started seeing the phantoms planted beneath our floorboards—and we fear that there is no door that is always open for us.It took too long to realize the tenderness of ice cubes in our tomato soupand that each sound is a sentence.And when we wake up, the house is full of smoke from fires burning somewhere else, but all we can do is close the windows and take out the trash.