On the cusp of teenagehood, I was increasingly preoccupied with a search for the elusive Cool, and suspected that this exciting, slightly nauseating sensation in the pit of my stomach was it.
I wouldn’t go out of my way to befriend Virginie, but I’m flattered that she accepts me into her circle.
Marguerite had always feared dying in a fire.
Writing a poem is like reaching across scalding history for you
not a cry for help
In ten years or so