In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

[17] P U E L L A The spotted winebrown of her blood stared back like a sentence would when she couldn’t read, its bird’s-foot tracks on her girlish underwear breaking and entering. Her wooden tongue clacked in her head. A child was dying in her shoes. With her lips she formed the word “why,” but the waves outshouted her as they always did, caressing her ankles, biting her skin with salt. ...

Share