my hands miss your scent
my ears miss your taste
my brain, it’s your figure
my tongue, all your thoughts
Category: Embodiment
Unfreeze
Maybe I should do the response that involves breathing,
Read More »palms
With two left feet
and sweaty palms,
Next
When I come back in the next life as a firefly,
at the pond you haunt when you fail to pass on,
I will show you how to blink in and out, in and out,
if you will tell me how not to let my soul be caged,
Company
1:39 in the morning,
ladybug on my windowsill—
Chamberlin (prompt: The Heaviness of Winter from Hannah Boutilier)
My 97 beats-per-minute heart
doesn’t know it could pendulum to deep
freeze response, and I have envied those
who can spare some fear
for the dark, but I, too, do
become more fearful
in it,
so I know a full, but only a full,
Dream Stone
Monsters in these caverns, and a guide will warn of one or two
but always forget the third. They arise, slink in and out
of the night, and we call it dance. Parasites that we’ve been
taught not to splash out merely stream through these veins.
winds
leaves teardrops
nourish
you
decompose
to the teen visited by sad over-sharers in her dreams
I’m doodling down spontaneous phrases in the
handwriting I’d imagine the girl on the radio has,
calling it in retrospect a poetic exercise,
hoping I’m as accurate about the font
drink the spiked french toast batter
don’t say the national day off work aloud.
it ruins everything—turns it from a feeling into an annoying
lack thereof. but what i mean is, though i don’t have an album
for mid-july or december first, i always keep november
Alphabet Ravine 