By Eno Howl Walking through the market,I was eating a pomegranate when we met.You wore last year’s clothes,shoes cut from a stranger’s Coke bottle and string.The clack of plastic on stone,the wet crack of seeds in my teeth.You stopped level with my knee.No money. Only food.They had warned me about boys like you—painted burns,borrowed bandages.I … Continue reading The Market
Academy of the Heart And Mind 