I could swallow this city whole, brambles and weeds and prickly pears and tarantulas and hawks and wild mushrooms and plums and apples and rosehips and all. And I miss you. I could wash it down with the cool water cascading over graffitied rocks melted from mountain run offs that erodes these cliffs we’d walk… Continue reading Charmolypi
Your laugh has the cadence of forgiveness, so we pick up its rhythm where we left off with banter and mirth and the kind of idiosyncrasies that clapped like toy cymbals over and over, a touch point pulse while heat built beneath our feet. In the laughing absolution, one of us steps too far and… Continue reading Music
You sat next to me on loud yellow vinyl. I remember the way it sounded when you moved in closer because I couldn’t hear you. I wore a silk floral shirt, and right now I’m not sure why I ever got rid of it. I got rid of a lot of things I wish I… Continue reading Yellow Marine
The only time I've dreamed of flying I was laying next to you wrapped in white sheets. Originally written April 12 2018, in a room with sparkling lights.
Talk to him again. I did, but I don't want to cross it off, because it's something I want to do over and over again. In surprising places. In unexpected places. In places where I feel vulnerable and have the arrogance to believe I'm at peace, I want to be there, at that place, that… Continue reading No. 121
We never could shake that magic. Your dreams stirred my dreams with nothing but sheets between us, and even still with cacti and pines and palms and all this time and space. That Galician word you repeated unfettered whispered itself in my head the night before my eyes even saw it. And it's all that… Continue reading Sillage
This was taken on a beautiful day at Roxborough State Park with someone new in my world who crept into it like the slow burn on a candle wick, altering the form of the life I'd built with wax. By the end of that year, I was changed. I don't know if it was inevitable… Continue reading Roxborough