For I Am The Smell of Smoke (2020)

Often, it feels like my dreams. The heady stench and sticky skins on top of each other. Life is just a moment in time. This morning, or the afternoon, I’ve lost track, I tried to bask in the sun hoping she would notice me. Recognize what is generations of built up sorrows. I hoped she could give me the answer on how not to sleep my days away.
Instead, all I got was horse flies and Mr. Brooks’ two houses down, watching me through the cracks of his fence. I don’t want to go back in the house, for all that is inside for me is Goya beans and a person I no longer am.

The sun was up so high and the streets have never been quieter.