I'm less worried about accomplishment - as younger people always can't help but be - and more concerned with spending my time well, spending time with my family, and reading, learning things.

We believed in our grandmother’s cooking more fervently than we believed in God.

I took the world into me, rearranged it, and sent it back out as a question: "Do you like me?

(What are your ghosts like?) (They are on the insides of the lids of my eyes.) (This is also where my ghosts reside.) (You have ghosts?) (Of course I have ghosts.) (But you are a child.) (I am not a child.) (But you have not known love.) (These are my ghosts, the spaces amid love.)

I wanted to touch him, to tell him that even if everyone left everyone, I would never leave him, he talked and talked, his words fell through him, trying to find the floor to his sadness.

We spent our lives making livings.

It’s hard to say goodbye to the place you’ve lived. It can be as hard as saying goodbye to a person.