in memory of laika. moscow mongrel, unloved, eleven-ish pounds of tiny bone and flesh. picked for bravery, space to be a quiet sacrifice kisses placed gently knowing, you would return to the heavens once more. may the cramped shuttle offer you warmth you so longed for let every shooting

His keys are still hanging by the door. The dogs sniff his shoes at the end of the bed. I fold and slip his wallet into my drawer; debit cards and cash never to be used again. My wedding ring  glints on my finger, wondering where her partner is. I

when your maker discards you, / chooses the liquor of life over you / - his own flesh and blood - / how can you believe that you are worth more / than a drop? what happens when you try to feel worthy / in someone else – a companion? / sometimes, you will be accepted and cherished / before