They say the choice part doesn’t last long; what we choose
\nto forget, who we believe
\nourselves to be<\/p>\n
I was lying on the lawn with my brother when we heard that, our radio between us Fine, <\/em>he said, No problem, <\/em>turning back toward home even before Perhaps it’s not fear of loss but arrival, when everything we’ve so carefully forgotten So who’s to know what we will really want that day and I am already becoming as with anyone who has been traveled into and not yet They say the choice part doesn’t last long; what we choose to forget, who we believe ourselves to be I was lying on the lawn with my brother when we heard that, our radio between us Just pull the plug, I said, if that ever happens to me Fine, he said, No problem, turning back […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":22,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"spay_email":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false},"categories":[13],"tags":[25],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/s6Jypy-memory","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2058"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/22"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2058"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2058\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":10134,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2058\/revisions\/10134"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2058"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2058"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2058"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nJust pull the plug, <\/em>I said, if that ever happens to me<\/em><\/p>\n
\nthe sun slipped
\nout of fog again, falling over
\nour backs<\/p>\n
\ncomes back,
\nlike running barefoot after someone down the interstate
\nbut not remembering who–the breath
\nof it, for example, the hot pavement<\/p>\n
\nsometimes I dream snow, sometimes
\ncellists crowd outside my window, drawing their bows across the dark grass–Listen,
\neven on good days I do almost anything
\nnot to be left<\/p>\n
\nobvious, circling the yard of other people’s lives, knees of my jeans damp, desire
\nand regret stunning as bones
\nin a street<\/p>\n
\ntraveled out of, I am almost
\ncold, almost happy, jumping in
\nthat water, red coat and
\nshoes too, as if that is all I’ll have left, all I remember, all
\nI remember\u2014ferocious, shivering down me, asking out loud if someone could please just
\ntouch my hair.<\/p>\nAlice Neiley<\/a><\/h6>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"