sigh of ***
like melted wax
laying in bed
same pool of death
irresistible
slow
descend
when the light
gets through
and touches us
Oct 13, 2020
Oct 13, 2020 at 2:42 PM UTC
i watch the water
beam from the sun
and that is what you call
making love
the earth is the greatest poet i know
in her feathery grasses
i picnic with my soul
near the root
where the insects
feed on the sap drips
of a colossal tree
once a small seed
now dripping thousands
to the floor
she says
don't you know
you have more
to grow and to
give
she sang me like
a ballad
i am a lover reclaimed
Mar 24, 2020
Mar 24, 2020 at 2:09 AM UTC
I used to be as bitter as the wood
waiting to catch fire and
I looked forward to a good cry
at night
But mornings were good for me
I woke up thinking like maybe
I had mastered what it’s like to be alone
Maybe I had mastered what it’s like to
fill up a room
of silence
with just my breath
My spirit starts to get cocky
at how it's learned the rhythm
of a stone
rippling through the water
about to head home
sinking like some
deep sea creature
allowed to live
in the abyssal zone
20,000 feet deep in
nothing but my own
unshakable core
Sep 12, 2019
Sep 12, 2019 at 4:19 PM UTC
I cannot thank you enough for the days
where I had a pool of words
I did not know where to place
And if it wasn’t for this microphone
carrying the weight of my day
I would only be the tune
that a hammer makes against the wall
where no matter how dull
the day wrung me, this stage
somehow made canvas out of
my face, and I could go home
and sleep knowing that maybe
I can inspire love when you look at me
Where a tequila with orange juice is only $5
Where the bartender made sure I didn’t drink too much
Where dance music has a conscious
Where an amethyst stone spoke my name
Where the painters aren’t afraid to use their guts as a brush
Where a poet has an audience
Where our existence is reassured
And what else could an artist
possibly want more
when that is what we question
all of the time
Jul 13, 2019
Jul 13, 2019 at 4:19 PM UTC
We learn to make
better friends
with bigger numbers
and less time
It is now
that we
understand
the magic
of the seasons
when they
click
and change
And like the berries
that one day
get picked
no one can steal
the spring
that turned us
beautiful
ripe
and red
Jun 2, 2019
Jun 2, 2019 at 2:46 PM UTC
If insomnia were a bicycle, I’d ride it
As I watch my yawn open eye
Wide awake I’d smell the roses
trace their spikes and wear their lipstick
And excuse me if the dreamers can’t smell it
A fever akin to a violin’s soundest
Cutting right through 4AM
with a blade of flicker
With an undestined dim...
I’d ride past the bus stop I walk to everyday
Hang my black coat and never claim it again
I’d ride to the point where I’d make it to work on time
But my boss to never see my face again
And if the hour hand were any slower
I swear…
I’d finally meet you
And when I do finally come to see you
our glass cages will then shatter
Out of the wreckage, a new kind of disaster
A happy one
but I’d have to warn you
I don’t have time for greeting cards
Or flat moons beaming dial tones
Because I am the type of girl
to eat my fruit with my eyes closed
And in this perpetual childhood
I am my own mother in a rocking chair
Back and forth
Am I almost there
If insomnia were a bicycle, I’d ride it
Straight into the sunset, I’d watch the sunrise
Apr 15, 2019
Apr 15, 2019 at 4:31 AM UTC
Like the V shaped pattern
of wake lines
behind a boat
the angle
between us
has stretched out far
The two arms of a chevron
have been forced
to let go
and I dream of the vertex
all of the time
When you are not the woman
of anyone’s dreams
Fridays become best
for cleaning
and folding
clothes
from three months ago
They become best
for dreaming
incognito
of serving
a man’s conscience
in bed for breakfast
It is the type of silence
that has carved the ******
back into my body
It’s left the fingers
searching
for what stifles
the neck
I comfort
my *******
pressing hard
on the button
below the belly
Until I am a sour fox
without blood
And what good is that rug
than to wipe your feet on
Stationary
I’m dead and
Swaying
like a rocking chair
in my bed
And for the love of god,
I cannot soothe
the cry after I
******
Feb 1, 2019
Feb 1, 2019 at 7:03 PM UTC
You cannot sow leaves back to a tree
Unpluck the feathers of a duck
When words begin to rot the tongue
those words cannot be swallowed back
And this is the silence between us
And this is why there will be no nest
Because this is the relationship
between a bird and a gun
And I will not be hung by the feet again
You cannot put this thunder in a jar
expecting the rain clouds to pour out to this garden,
this sick and yellow turf I keep protecting
like a woman carved into a scarecrow
And this is the distance between us
And this is how the bullet is missed
Because this is the sound of my heart pounding
like someone at the door,
I run to answer it— never again to you
Mar 14, 2018
Mar 14, 2018 at 12:22 PM UTC
Please god
don’t let my heart
become unkind
A soul in black
can absorb
the light
But I’m afraid
to tire out
from giving out
and not getting back
To confuse the black
as all forgotten
If I could wear it black
and still be kind
Don’t let it be
my wish
to harden
For the sake
of my self-
protection
If I could find
the room
in the absence
Don’t let my heart
become unkind
And let your greatest gift
become my lesson
of how
the darkness
absorbs
all light
Dec 29, 2017
Dec 29, 2017 at 4:47 PM UTC