Category: poetry

  • Cottagecore

    By a crystal creek in the grassy wood,  A sun-warmed cabin nestles among lilac and daisy. Gingham flutters under sighing wisteria  And wicker cradles forget-me-not  Beside sun-sparkling chamomile tea.  a fly thrashes desperately, then falls still in the cup.  By a half-raised window veiled in gently swaying lace, I work wood across wheat,  Kneading my…

  • The God of Loss

    i wanted to know what the gods were made of. i placed my fist next to wide open eye, skin bending to bones just underneath, knuckles like mountains just under sky. i stuffed my mouth with dirt rage dressed in teeth & spit

  • Notes from Monday’s Appointment

    Are you listening?I know it’s easy to forget,but what I’m trying to tell youis your whole life could bea trauma symptom. Are you listening?The memories leftbecause it was kinderthat way. The non-rememberingis a side effectof you. Are you listening?Your mind is not an evil; you have only been made from the worldthat’s been let into…

  • Apparition

    They approached in hordes and masses,screaming in throaty, strangled jubilation.A cloud of dust in the outer rimof our vision, the edgeof our flat, bare world. Meanwhile, we pattered through the halls,looked with moonlike faces up at the drafty rafters of the roof,the airy rooms, the gray light, the seagrass aroma. The grown-ups told us to…

  • today i am a lady

    I thought I was dead, butI was only dreaming.The red pigment stained my skinAnd I thought I had bled myself dry.But I don’t have even a little lipstick on the back of my hand when I wake,So I put some on to mark the skin andLet it smear as I go about my day. I…

  • Future Requiem

    This world is making me bleed. Blood and tears and angry sweat, it’s all falling off me and it’s staining my clothes and cutting paths down my cheeks and no one who cares is allowed to do anything. We were told big words of freedom, of liberty and were dazzled by them until we learned…

  • Fourth Dimension Fairytale

    at all times i am dying. after all, we could not have seen the guillotine.we could not have seen the way the road gorged itself on unvigilant passerby& the vigilantes, too. the sky seemed a stranger to me. i could not speak for you as i once had; i could notpeel back the skin of…

  • Sestina For Burning Bones

    it all started with a dress the color of stars. baptism of the color red. two worlds burning into desire. it ended with bones. the city only breathed stardust and sword hilts before your body turned blade. you covered my four fields with hoarfrost. I never knew cruelty until the day you breathed it into…

  • Sequins

    I remember Papa slamming the front door again and again, car engine rumbling to a start, his absence opening around me like a blade. before he left he told me he dreamed of sequin carved women littering the concrete like koi, limbs splayed glossy under the streetlights. now, while he dances in hotel rooms, Mamateaches…