return to sender

The Moon didn’t get my birthday card — I found out — so I took her around town, up the coast and down the coast, through the park and into the apricot tree I used to climb. She made no

no nervous system

  She called me last night, sounding like she’d been running. “I can’t find my jellyfish,” she said. “Are you sure you’re not wearing it?” I asked. “Of course!” Then she quieted. “Oh, no, no, no, no, no….” “You took

marine

When Simone brought the sea to my house, I realized I couldn’t put it anywhere; I hadn’t cleaned the garage or the den. She set it down in the kitchen for now. I had questions about how she stole an

margarine

“Butterflies taste like margarine,” she said, and I should have asked how she knew that, but instead I mixed our faces together and made them waltz, and I can tell you now she tasted like a Siren, drowning me in