I’ve spent years dancing around my writing practice. I’ve moved in fits and spurts through months of writing and months of silence. I’ve paid tribute sporadically to the scurrying stories in my head, and done my best to be nice to myself when I’ve kept those stories caged. I have made declaratives in hopes of …
insecurities are rooted in a place that rarely sees the light.
sometimes i think it might be easier if you used a few more words.
always i tumble into the tumult– only to find my way through.
i don’t need to take pictures– your fluid image emblazoned in my mind feet gliding above the sand hands blossoming a golden lotus. this seamless stretch of time away from existing structures– free to explore new contours find new lines in the curves of our faces. a deepening– realizing– acknowledging of what is and …
there are poems in my bones words woven through and around the sinews of my muscles– verbose tendons and loquacious ligaments. phrases which will their way to my mind– narrating an unfolding pathway– letters, lit up like lamp posts along a winding stretch familiar monuments, comforting sentiments, breeding ease– an allowance; cultivating breath …
what happens when you take away your reaction? is there nothing left?
if there were more time i’d have filled all of your pockets with them– tumbling words of love and devotion simple sentiments, gentle reminders unwinding thoughts cascading from my heart to yours– pieces of paper, folded by fingers sounds formed from a feeling– the surge through my cells– electrical impulses riding the waves, tossing …
the magical ebb and flow of me and you a crushing ease– the mysterious pain of realization– an unintended understanding of the bigness of our oneness. a union which neither of us could have possibly anticipated– the journey of two separate pieces, complete and continuously forming and un-forming to become more. moving together, …
your dark and thoughtful eyes a raging river rushing behind them– reading your thoughts unconsciously understanding the language behind your carefully chosen words. your tongue loosened and unguarded only when foreign substances give consent. you leave me breathless with your barrage of words– struggling to hold onto the smallest pieces of them. tucking them into …
the edges of myself 