Michelle Herman’s most recent books are Devotion, a novel, and Like a Song, a collection of essays. She directs the MFA program in creative writing at Ohio State.
Silence I thought I was good because I had borne the brunt of society’s manhandling, because through halls of terror I fled and gangs of girls followed me, seeking to press thumbs deep into my arms, cheeks, back of my neck, thighs, because goodness lay heavy in the air around me, because most around me were powerful underprivileged role models, I thought it good enough to know and read vexatious histories and in my own private sanctum feel the pain, to dwell in sorrow through theater and dance, that just by being around, goodness could rub off on a person
The island appeared in the playa – a thick family of vegetation in sand as if risen from the undulation of blued snow over grasses, purple. Huddling through time, as bodies green and dark in me knew better, yet compelled me to run from the tall thick house where I lay resting and take refuge from the wind where wind blew.