The true cost of dying lies beyond the sick. It buries itself in the people who try to love the sick.

retracing frowns is how we forego boundaries, to chase greener passports.

When we raise our hands now, the air is flush / with vacancies.

To deconstruct something is not to destroy it, but to understand how it was built, part by part; what can our new narratives teach us about the reality that’s been there all along?