"someday I will pardon the day for coming, excuse my poems for selling grief like iced coffee or a takeaway meal, and forgive myself for knowing death before I answered the phone."- "on every sunday morning I don't sing," Mycah Millerlight through the half-closed window holds grief, girlhood, and queerness in all of their many forms. California poet Mycah Miller's highly awaited second book of poems describes heartache in its most raw, details fury deep in the belly, and yet still celebrates joy like a warm home to return to on a cold night."Miller's poetry is inspiring, a chance to feel seen, and the celebration of years of careful work. If you have ever crocheted a hat, you may remember how it doesn't actually look like a hat until the final cinching of yarn through the last row of loops. In a style evocative of this phenomenon, Miller strings soft moments through each other until they are less like words and more like a heartfelt realization, taking my breath with the cinch of the last line. Miller's poems settled in my chest like a good shot of tequila, pairing its catharsis with some sadness from my own heart. Her style shows the place of a flower's petals in a revolution. Don't miss out." - Risa Mykland, Poet
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