Duplicity out. Decency in.
I recently held my sobbing husband in my arms as he choked out these words, “I think he’s going to win.” It was the first time I’ve seen him so desperately somber, so utterly broken by this tyrannical climate in which we’ve been living…and dying. My husband became a North American son on April 19,…
42 Million Heartbeats
You died on a Saturday. I remember thinking it was too beautiful a day for death; too beautiful for your slip from pink, to gray, to gold. But now I know Death comes, regardless of swaths of stars. Regardless of being held by the sun and kissed open by the wind. Death comes. Plucking each…
After #Orlando: A Letter From Mother to Son
It’s 4 am and a crescent of light falls near your left temple, as a whir of chilled air fills the room. You are snuggled next to me–your slight, warm body curved round my own–and I hear the sweet sounds of your suckling; the rhythm, so delicate, nearly lulls me to sleep. I know when…
Spring’s Sweet Arrival
A gaggle of geese return to our street each winter while migrating from one place to another. They arrive in January, around my husband’s birthday, and I am surprised to find them behind our house, honking like cab drivers in traffic. Most leave with babies but one pair can’t manage to have any; I’ve watched…
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Dani De Luca 