• “Pine” and “Tuileries” by Kristin Garth

      Tuileries   Twilight, Tuileries, trembles, tulips, then tomfoolery. Cafe au lait, collar new beneath her trenchcoat, navy blue. Her yin, the silver links his yang, the gold. She flew to him nineteen years old. His growl “good evening,” telephone — a voice with fangs, a face unknown. She’s hotel howls with bit, licked lips,…

José Guadalupe Posada