evolution
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The Cycle Breaks, Triggers Turn To Spoons
You don’t have to participate in my healing but you can no longer trick me into thinking you had no hand in my undoing that all my wounds were self-inflicted that I always had it good and somehow chose to hurt instead No, that doesn’t make sense you have no power here anymore when before… Continue reading
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Vessel at Harbor
I would rather the staggering into the next daylight incomplete and unprepared like one of those dreams choking on symbols half of which I won’t remember when my eyes open. I would rather the cycle of beginning with my hormones caught between its teeth like a marionette’s strings, jerky involuntary movements that are all reason… Continue reading
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Chrysalis
Not surrounded, but a part of me that I intimately know and cherish folding into a fist of which my flesh is part, not imprisoned. A dense and opaque darkness of my own making, half destruction, half waiting. Out of instinct I had not allowed a space for voices, only change. Here, the past is… Continue reading
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While My Springtime Sleeps
It must be something deeper than a good thing that no longer holds an extinguished morning parading its remnants of colors like a robe whose only virtue left is dignity, the weight of history, the tangerines and mulberries no longer as vibrant and their edges blurring, the cranes tired of kissing the sky, the sky… Continue reading
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You Miracle
It’s OK if you don’t find it right away, the bridge that allows that song you’ve carried as a temporary response to the hunger, to cross over to that coveted beauty that in the brutally truthful nights only appear as illusion. It’s OK that you’re clothed in an undistilled kindness, one that doesn’t really protect… Continue reading
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The Sun Rises on Rapid City, 4/22
The problem is, you only find a path to shoot down the sun at postmortem, when the coliseum is empty and the flourishes of ego have been archived, the dust you disturbed swept away. It’s not such an incomplete thing, doubt. If you have replaced one grain of certainty with a pause, a question for… Continue reading
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At the Seams
spring arrives the way dawn arrives, only hungrier. there’s something to it like the chaos of childbirth: despair, pain, purging, cleansing, untouched corners and the change that touches them. water everywhere, light that hesitates. a pulling away, two seasons, two hemispheres of consciousness, two curses. pauses. hopes mixed with blood. Continue reading
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Self-Discovery is a Tree-Lined Winding Path
They built an amphitheater in the place where I’ve chased hundreds of sunrises back when there was dawn in my step and the rest of my life was still a secret that fate was withholding, all the probabilities glistening on the edges of each blade of grass and I could hear the impeccable pink hum… Continue reading
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The Physics of Shadows
It arrived the way sunshine breaks through lace curtains: not as a testament to the strength of one or a critique of the assumed infallibility of the other, but as a moment when the walls became less symbols of imposition and seemed to acquire some soulful transliteration. Discernment takes more than the recognition of patterns,… Continue reading
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Depression is an Unmade Bed
Nobody talks about it, the bottom of a fractured life summarily made whole where the gaps between cause and effect are incongruous and there is only the vintage charm of old pain, of addiction to being lost, too heavy to move and too obstinate to be stirred by healing hands or turning pages. They’ll tell… Continue reading
Rampant & Golden 