When you slept, you tugged me toward you. You sought me in the dark. I didn’t sleep. Every cell, every follicle, every nerve, alert.
Sandra Cisneros, from “Never Marry a Mexican,” Woman Hollering Creek
Published
When you slept, you tugged me toward you. You sought me in the dark. I didn’t sleep. Every cell, every follicle, every nerve, alert.
darknesstohislight 