We are here in the middle of a country. At night I anchor myself to my husband as if we were surrounded by water instead of a flat, dry plane of land. I hook my foot around his ankle and breathe in dust and the smell of other people's kitchens. Frying foods fuel my dreams. ~excerpt from prose
Ryn, Julia Van Der
The Tuxedo Archives: Vol. 2006
, Article 5.
Available at: http://scholar.dominican.edu/tuxedolit/vol2006/iss2/5