poetry

when I was young  I understood dandelions to be fragile flowers, not the yellow part, the seed heads. collecting fragile flowers, so I could hold them close. Weeds. to tend. […]

it is not the hard planes or shoulders that bear weight it’s not full lips or how they press life back into bones it is not sky eyes or umber

my ache was malleable  but your hands are stained it’s not art: it’s blood for gallery walls Day 13 of #NaPoWriMo Join Us Today’s challenge is a short poem, but

my ache was malleable  but your hands are stained it’s not art: it’s blood for gallery walls Day 13 of #NaPoWriMo Join Us Today’s challenge is a short poem, but

my ache was malleable  but your hands are stained it’s not art: it’s blood for gallery walls Day 13 of #NaPoWriMo Join Us Today’s challenge is a short poem, but

the poems write themselves as lovers taste the pain  today is an experiment writing and the dissection how do you eat the pain? gums bleeding roots of an unplanted tree

the summer spent in MaineI never experienced  my skin’s a lobster todayand he drinks wine now I used to buy fresh produceon the side of the road they go to

the toothbrush  has become heavy again Day 9 of #NaPoWriMo Join Us Off prompt today. No time to Sonnet 😉 

She had all this potential, lost on survival. Maybe when she was five and reached out for the warmth of understanding, that was when the list began. Though, it could

An autumn kiss blew disaster. His face and hands bespoke the fall; Notes of mint and loss came after.An autumn kiss blew disaster.His leaving left, undone, faster.Another season came, no call.An autumn