A dopamine rush of poorly placed semicolons,a saline flush to exit the daydreams formed by blue bloodshot eyes peeking above my glasses’ rim,flowing out of
The candle sweats between us.The psychic names the dead I once lovedas if reading anonymous obituaries. My high school friend Joe who often wonthe 400
Listening to songs along the riverfrontno shoes, manicured yards, nothing to aila vessel filled with prospects one sheet of color vibrates across the skylinean agent
People lose some inhibition when the canopy of stars mock their single wide below: such beauty staring with such pity.Paint chips at the same
When you decided you were going to do it, tucking the thick blankets in the creases of the doorframe, as if they too were your
I learned to love folding a boat out of a single piece of loose leaf. I’d make the mast high & sometimes would add a
You Hate Reading Out Loud But we must adventure through the syllables, the steady monophthongs home warm bed the diphthongs that slide nimble fingers
I. The reactive dance of The landscape Instigated by the wind— I am its constant audience. II. Upon the blades of grass, Trash, Alternative
A humming runs down dry cracks in the paper’s skin and hoping it’s braille I spread my fingers thin, thumbing for eye sockets, nostrils, follicle
In Spanish, “to birth” is translated as “dar a luz.” How poetic—to give someone light, a slice of sun as they exit mother’s earth. At