Some books are not just retellings of earlier stories; they tweak the edges, like pulling threads......

A door creaks open, a serpent-breeze coils itself around her ankles. She has crossed her feet,......

How do you kiss mouths where Words are festering deprivation? Because word upon word upon word......

I’ll still remember the big amber traffic light beaming on like a wristwatch of worn out......

Even hell is uncertain when I walk with you. Sand under our feet and fishing boats......

I was in excess of this order, more than bones I was arteries and veins desire......

Kashmir I thought of you while walking in Bombay But that was in a dream too......

“Describing her eyes is not easy, because they are not just eyes — they are a......

In the old days,every novel carried the same plots and characters—you could open any pageand read......

I remember Agamemnonwhen we tied our horsesto a fig tree, peed a yellow streamalong its base.......