•October 27, 2017 • Leave a Comment


And there is the slow sweetness.

And here is the true love: the person who holds you.

Who loves every state

I have been trust falling for you and you catch me every day. You’ve never failed me. I’ve never doubted you.

You sew me little patches with rabbits and moons on them and you worry that it is not great enough so you sew in little silver stars. I cover your wall with post it notes of the things I like about you – and the wall needs updating as I always find more things.

And this is love. and it is steady. and it is not dramatic. and the sadness and the distance only make it stronger.

When we hug our noses and foreheads align perfectly, and when we dance we hardly move, we just breathe together, bellies back and forth. Because there couldn’t be a more beautiful dance move than being as close together as possible.

You wear my green pants and I wear your socks.

And you love every state of me, you run your fingers through my hairy legs with gentle love and you burrow your nose into my smelly armpit and inhale and inhale.


•October 27, 2017 • Leave a Comment

Dream dreams about dreaming

the ones where you wake up

but you are still asleep

and you are a little Russian doll of dreams

open up to find a smaller version of yourself

and down and down

you can live forever you know

if every time you peer inside

eyes closed

mouth open wide

what will you find?

No end, no time.

•September 7, 2017 • Leave a Comment

I go to the graveyard to write poems,

but the graveyard makes me cry too hard,

A bouquet of dead wild flowers

in a plastic soda cup.

So I sit, leaning against someone named Twila

and I look up yelp reviews for ‘psychics’,

though I have never been to such a place,

but I just want some to look past my body and

tell me something “True”

I want someone to look me in the eyes for a long long time.

Tell me I am a door beneath so much water that I can even begin to think of opening.


•May 10, 2017 • Leave a Comment

I found a note in my old journal that says:  “Sarah says you will never be able to feel anything true unless you are

(and then my handwriting is so bad I honestly cannot read the last word (which is perfect)).

•May 8, 2017 • Leave a Comment

I have been going to the graveyard a lot. I have been taking rubbings of the epitaphs and making them into poems. It takes a long time. I wander through the rows and rows and most stones only have names and dates and it takes me a long time to find the right words. But I think “how silly” this wandering does not take long at all, when each line takes an entire human life to be written.

I am afraid to show people the poems because of this. Because each line is worth one human life. I hope I can find the right words in these forever words, the last line in the story of someones life. I hope I can do it justice.

•December 30, 2015 • Leave a Comment





•November 24, 2015 • Leave a Comment


always remember, you are a brave light

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