Playground at the End of the World
My shadow has sat heavy in this placethat isn’t mine— on the swing setwith the creaking, shrieking chainsthat bit my fingers, wildthings, as they filledmy…
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The Sculptor’s Love Sonnet (After Percy Bysshe Shelley)
what can i doif i can’t wait for you? i was a traveler in an antique land.you were a story that you told me. like…
Continue reading → The Sculptor’s Love Sonnet (After Percy Bysshe Shelley)
Lockdown
So strange That we sit here, seventeen and nowso used to quiet grief,a ritualno different from brushingour teeth or feedingthe cats. That we have to…
Pierre (I)
Darling, I almost remember whenthe unhooked stars and sliced-up moonwere not enough to light you, whenthe sky could fit inside your fistor underneath your heel.…
Pierre (II)
It’s two a.m. andyou can’t see. The skewed sheets clingto your coiled legs, nowspringing goosebumpsagainst the open window (you just wantto smell the night). How…
Natasha
You have imagined fallingin love a thousand times. It should hurt, shouldn’t it,like all falls do, a heart-shapedbruise, breath snatched from lungs,nothing easy, nothing soft.…
Our Own Words 