returning to a place of post-apocalypse calm
i am now returning—a phrase, a wound, a hinge on a doorhalf-hanging, rusted on promisesnever meant to keep. what is “now”but the afterbirth of once,slick with the memory of chaosand the shimmer of thingsalmost touched? returning implies departure,a before where the dust hung silent,where streets were namesand names were maps,not...