you are in these bones, but they are not you.

  • dreaming of life

    dreaming of life

    I’m going to plant an orchard in my front yard. I look forward to dewy fruit bursting in my mouth and tiny children scampering like monkeys along gnarly branches. Jewels, wealth to share. Home is where the things you desire become happy bedmates with your will and drive. I am wearing a long black dress Read more

  • Unzipped.

    Unzipped.

    If it were as easy as I imply. To unzip my mind and let you in. Or spill it out, ready-formed, onto a page. To coax you over, just a little closer. To kiss you, press my lips to your eyes and deliver these images in their detail and beauty. Because I am inadequate in Read more

  • Eld

    Eld

    haven’t combed my hair in days. sitting on the tile in the bathroom like this is the shit a woman with a husbandchildrenfulltimejob does. writing nonsense and fretting over your skin and distracting yourself from the tearing sensation in your head. where are you going, baby? why do you do this to yourself? “You aren’t Read more

  • the mother wound

    the mother wound

    Being a mother has been like having an alarm clock radio shoved into my brain. It’s on 24 hours of every day, waking moments and sleep both victim to this open channel streaming an endless, ever-evolving litany of worries, fears, corrections, self-flagellation, montages of moments and words and sticky fingers and baby kisses. A shifting, Read more

let me sow that i may reap