To live in an Alaska of the mind is to map the imagined cartography of winter on all that is physical. To dwell perpetually in a symbolic cold, and to emerge, with grace, unscathed. This book questions what it means to live and love in such a buried season. This Alaska interrogates all that emotional and physical intimacy cannot salvage or keep warm. Death and dreams are at the very center of this book. But life — and all it entails and circles and loses and loves — is at its heart.
In the lozenge-colored glow of the garage
you are the hero skinning a rabbit
bit by bit, careful not to hook a vein.
I am the daughter peering through the window.
What if the world really is a stale bowl of water
that we can’t keep our fingers out of—
The night sky stiffens in a squeal of light.
How can I look away?