Lauren Russell casts a sharp eye on the urban landscape around her, carving profiles and cutting out silhouettes from real experience. The strongest influences on her are the people she deals with directly—lovers, roommates, oglers from the subway, fellow patients, pets. "The lover, as artifact, is constant as long as the jewelry remains broken," she writes, dismantling her attachments to fluster assertions of overarching facts. Russell favors a singing absence, where each detail is a transitional truth, and each word a temporary home. "It may be known that she allowed a dismantling."