Voyager

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…Read more »

Sap and Scripture

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…Read more »

Percolate

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