by Missy LeDoux Rodion Kutsaiev I’m sorry I hope for ridiculous things, like perfect first kisses and cemetery picnics and impossible acts of redemption. I apologize to the nihilists for my belief that everything always matters. I’m sorry for calling anyone my best friend. Absolve me of all the loves I’ve quantified. I’m sorry my skin is transparent, capillaries exposed. I wish that my blushes had more than one line of defense. Forgive me for saying “I’m broken” when so many