Dalé says if something’s good enough, he’ll eat the bones. I nod in agreement at desire defying logic and let that make sense of my good fortune and mistakes. His teeth are grinding feverishly on chicken bone, slurping and sucking up tomato sauce hidden in hollowed curves. I […]
Each of us is a universe, so while you are the storm and the tree being shaken by harsh winds, you are also the cotton candy-hued sky.
My dad is a breed of romantic to a degree of unintentional irony that confuses me.