every night my heart breaks
as i lay this new day to rest
and with it,
this new her—
new
for a moment and gone
in an instant
i remember when it was us
and life moved through me
into her,
and the portal into other realms was
open
as synapses fired and gathered
her soul
and now—
she belongs to the world
as much as i do;
the trees,
the oceans,
the embers,
the wind—
Sep 20, 2025
Sep 20, 2025 at 8:40 PM UTC
I dreamt we were in bed
Your arm draped lazily over me
tangerine glow dripping
down your velvet face. You marveled
at the earth-shattering gravity
of our coming moments, subtle smile brightening
your sleepy eyes, "how did we get here?"
how did i get here?
In dreams, you're all of it,
all of yourself, the best parts
of me, everything
that made me clutter past
lovers into this small space
in my heart.
In dreams, you're everything
I've ever loved about everyone
I've missed— the Frankenstein
father my daughter will never have—
But you're not real,
You only exist in the perfect space my brain's created
out of the fragments you left.
Maybe in a way, I loved you— absent from eternity;
out of gratitude for opening
my heart to the idea of love
with anyone who saw me
enough to feel it— Gratitude
for allowing me to love
myself candidly
in my revival.
I hold space for that
I still live in your shadow in some ways,
creeping through
the memories this town has
of you,
leaving my own behind
in my imminent departure.
I'll never be absent of you
I'll never be absent of you
Sep 20, 2025
Sep 20, 2025 at 8:37 PM UTC
i anticipate a life long enough to see
the gentle withering of
my face in the mirror;
skin turning papery and thin,
hair flowing, silver silk—
for each wrinkle to hold a memory,
my body bowing to gravity, awaiting
peace with the earth.
this will be my prime
when i’ve loved fully,
lived kindly,
when i sing wisdom from my heart, and
my body is soft, delicate,
just right for long hugs,
when my home is warm and full of tenderness
and swells with the laughter of the family i’ve collected
along the way—
mellow evenings around the hearth
reminiscing,
sweet cakes and tea—
love and softness—
days and days of stories unraveling like string
and weaving back together into the tapestry
of my life
Sep 20, 2025
Sep 20, 2025 at 8:23 PM UTC
Two winters ago I would chain-smoke spirits on my way to work in the early mornings;
windows down, blueish fingertips,
driving through the gunks into the sunrise, Leonard Cohen on repeat—
I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel
I would drive home much the same way, sometimes going the long way
to catch the sunset;
my sunless days, nestled between 4 stiff walls
The world was grey;
grey pavement
grey skies
grey walls
grey smoke
It must be this way forever, I thought.
that February was the coldest month I remember being alive—
This year the windows are up, the sun is bright, I keep my car
warm.
In the passenger seat;
a bag of sweet sesame rice crackers, an apple, lime seltzer, a little jacket, my journal, tiny socks—
I reach my hand in the backseat
when Winona cries,
let her wrap her tiny fingers
around my thumb, "I'm here,
sweet girl"
I pull into a park on
the river— we get out
watch the trees
sway, the breeze
paints our faces rose, we
orient ourselves in this
big, unfamiliar
world. she reaches her hand
out as if to grab the falling leaves, a
wonderous look on her soft face—
she smiles,
she touches my face,
just months old and she knows
my voice
she knows
my safety—
for a moment,
nothing else exists,
the world doesn't know
we're here—
for a moment, it's just us,
like it was in that hospital room
not too long ago
for a moment, there is
peace—
I wonder if I'll remember this
in 60 years,
when both our hands
will have wrinkled, mine more
than hers; when crows' feet
ordain our eyes;
when I've lived my life, and she's
well into hers. I know
she won't remember,
I hope I do—
May 21, 2025
May 21, 2025 at 9:17 PM UTC