Rocks press my lungs empty chasm, compressed gem weight the dolomite world, then sink slow in neutral aquamarine, leaden ties on a body bound in cold--haunting chill, then a ghost; at the bottom stop time black diamond clenched between fists.
The way Earth moves here an easy roll of jagged rock across a film reel and endless gray, or lush green or blue—my favorite blue and the nights are thicker without you here heat from my own breath my own sweat my own pulse in my ears a rhythmic syncopation with the cicadas and the... Continue Reading →
We always made fudge at Christmas opened the kitchen window to dissipate heat of the oven and the hot stove. Melted butter filled me mixed itself with that late December pine and the precipice of snow convergence of deathly cold and warm hearts. Mom let us push backs of chairs against countertops so we could... Continue Reading →
ma belle fleur with swollen knuckles tangled hair your veins are small rivers flowing against grain poison granules in deep blue my lips and teeth learning to swim in them draw red to my tongue a soft rain our breasts look different in sunlight bright white against sand, your desert showered in touch I trace... Continue Reading →
I haven't seen perfect hands except wrapped around the hickory in the yard. I spread feed at the base and built a sanctuary; I knelt I prayed for perfect hands to hold my world with sacrificed flora before it could seed I built an altar at the base of our hickory miles from anything but... Continue Reading →
Sundays were bright blue a family drawn in sidewalk chalk and a hidden stack of mail; summer evaporated like old rain sun-scorched puddles at the base of the drive our feet were small- strong, calloused by hot pavement and we spoke love like it was a part of us like there was no hole in... Continue Reading →
There's sand in my sheets where I've carried the grit of travel into fiber into home strange a threshold crossed seamlessly, Virginia's in the kitchen Georgia spilt atop the hutch the sheets are dusted, a comfortable grain against well-worn skin calves, unshaven and I'm the sand in someone else's bed
Blue water is warmer thick skin is softer he said You tear like paper at my words and I can't hold something so prickled, so sharp. Arms of rust, breasts of splintered wood victims of exposure to you.