a series of dotted lines that never converge an elliptical cadence of a conversation dropped due to a bad connection. Speech impediments run in families. We stutter our apologies Always, we say, I’m sorry but never really mean it. Silence is the unders …

Not to bless, but desiccate instead the hot spit on lips shaping hate suddenly at center. The confused backing away, backs now together wanting a blessing on pins & posts, the placards & uncertain plans, questions, answers, the demands. Yes, a …

(after Pablo Neruda) and it happens that I am tired of beauty shops. The smell of hair dye makes me break into hives, a sort of hysteria. Hysteria is an old-fashioned, Freudian word. Freud is out-of-fashion, and that is a relief. I want fashion to be o …

We are working in boxes stacked up on wire, pulling our eyes closer together. I’m writing you to confess to my failures as I brew in the cracked tea pot on the window sill, Teetering between the snow and a steamy room with two moon faces. Let’s have a …

Sticky July – wasps in the greenhouse. We dragged out the vacuum and sucked up their hard dark bodies; stuffed a rag in to the nozzle, so they would not crawl back out. See them, covered in dust, climbing over each other in darkness. I dreamt they esca …

I gather elderberries by the river. Last year, these purple-black fruits rotted on my counter – I was in the ER, clenched with pain and cold under ten blankets and by the time they opened me there was a liter of blood to take, one slender branch and th …

A terrible blessing – to be laid open to the bone, where the marrow trembles and sings with all the griefs, known and unknown, mine and yours. I have wanted a field where animals could graze, where I could lay down in the long grasses. If this careful …

            In conversation with Rilke and Ocean Vuong What if getting old is traveling backward, regaining your first eyes, your portion of blood and bone no longer scaled with wound. Suppose you awake without your skin, all your senses felled by slee …

                                     for Les The wood is entered from a settled place, its darkness a murmur that hangs like threads of time, vines indescribably local yet never seen before. A pond, perhaps vernal, seems to hold everything I do not kno …

Cowpokes spun lasso diction across a white girl’s youth. Storefronts seemed larger than they were just as what I presented was flat. A mustache on one man’s lip stood for passion, on another’s meant death. What was I to do with the heavy weight of skir …

Cool like the Virginia waterfalls his eyes undressed her and yet, his stiff smile demanded such reverence from her. Rust-gold like the hawkweeds of summer, his eyelashes, cast fringed shadows on his cheeks whenever he closed his eyes… freckles floati …

It was our third date, today, we dated, I think it was a date, we had lunch, we talked, we argued. I thought about falling in love with you, considered that you might   never fall for me, ordered bacon and eggs on croissant, the same as you and kn …