Thirst for Salt

by Madelaine Lucas

I say I’ve always been sad. That I can see the same sadness in the photos of myself when I was small. That today, recognizing it as the sadness I’ve always had, I could almost call it by my own name, it’s so like me.

It is easy, I have learned, to mistake solitude for softness, for depth.

THE TROUBLE IS THAT OUR DREAMS, LIKE OUR MEMORIES, are not immune to revision. How