Emily Rose Proctor

High on sugar, ebullient, our children suffer through the last hours of school, so many monsters, masked, fake blood trickling ...

It wasn’t just his aloe hand, spreading on my burn-crackling brow, his clean breath breezing sunshine through my thinking hole, ...

                                    for Madeleine Rose...

I could not, for the life of me, understandwhy Genesis moved so soon to murder—to fratricide. But then I had kids,and now I know it to be at least as true ...