Mornings

Lazy on top of the sheets, dozing off again, your hand reaches out for my skin you sigh and roll over and snore The sun as lazy as we, languishing on our bellies You stir and touch my thigh and come closer You pull me in and in and in You make coffee and hand…

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Building Up The Bones: A Poem

I am ready to build my house, now I have bones to to build my walls Feathers to put a roof over my head Stories to lay as my foundations. My windows will be made of eyes So that when I look out of my house, I will see souls The fences around my house…

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Crystallized: A Poem

Blue lips Cold bird Half-buried in snow. Don’t tell me You’re gone. White boughs Heavy Limbs That ache, tired. When you fell In On the twenty-first of December I knew Then. Summer is here now But you are still Crystallized. Don’t tell me – I know. Where you’ve gone. Image: “Dormantic” by Gohmn on ello.co

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Carnations (Water): A Poem For Mother’s Day

I Water seeps from between your fingernails Gushes from between your legs Drips from the corners of your eyes When you open your mouth there is water When you open your eyes you are water Carnations bloom from your fingers Lilacs sprout from your hair Daisies adorn your ankles Lilies bursts from your breasts Crowning your hips, your thighs,…

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Skeleton: A Poem

Today was the first day I felt your bones And not your breath. Today was the first day I ran my fingers over your clavicle And not your skin. Today was the first day I lay against your rib cage And not your chest, taut and rich with youth and fear, Today I felt the hardness of…

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Mirrors: A Poem

“Forget him” was the most useless advice anyone ever gave me. “Forget about him,” my friends said. “You deserve better, anyway.” Forget him. The thought had occurred to me one night years before, but it meant nothing to my hoofbeat heart, stampeding in my chest, meant nothing to my butterfly eyes, wings beating open every five…

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Saltwater and Ink: A Poem

Opalescent moon, senescent sky A fog at dusk that speaks to me in tongues Like the prophets of old My phantom dreams, papier-mache and origami, so fragile, Milk-white, and pale Are laid at the altar As I clutch this knife With your name on my lips. This love isn’t pretty but it is real (Real like…

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Devotional: Multitudes

I contain so much of you  “Who taught you to write in blood on my back? Who taught you to use your hands as branding irons?” — Jeanette Winterson (Written on the Body) – Image: Salvador Dali, Figure with Drawers for a Four-Part Screen

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Blind Like Water: A Poem

Tonight, I will sleep in the garden Buried under rocks and sand A man will come with a rake every now and then To carve lines into my body And he will say “The flowers are sweet today.” At night when the lights are quiet The moon like a sea shell washed ashore by a…

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Renaissance

The sky is bright today The sky is bright today Pitter-patter, says the rain, beating on my thigh My hands are alive The water falls in myriad ways A fern swallows me The sky is bright today — This poem is meant to accompany this photo, which is a visual representation of an epiphany of…

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