Body, she’s me. Shadow, that’s mine. Her ample armsfluffy marshmallowy whiteembrace you.A soft hug that reminds you of what you’ve been meaning to remember.I was there. At the beach, she’s as big as the ocean.her sandy thighs ripple like wavesas she drops to the ground and crosses her legs. She engulfs the shadows of seagulls. I swallow the scene. Continue reading “Body, she’s me”
Category Archives: Poetry
Mad belly,shaking volcano. Laughing moves earth,breaking ground.Up and down vibratingsound, like thunderclapsand breaking waves. Heaving, growing,climbing for freedom. Soft hotsoil fallsfrom your fingers. Wild earth, fleshy feminine. Down belowbodies are buzzing. You make me quake.
Back then, we were other people. Your old-you met my old-meand we heard us click into place. Growing apart and back together—intertwining vines, dirt-packed back roads, a multi-colored ball of yarn—we’re at our fullest at the intersection.We’re always together at crossroads. Our appetites have grown as we’ve devoured everything in our paths. Gobbling up belly laughs, licking our plates clean, moaning withContinue reading “Big Friends”
The beach-shadows capturedin the photo look dead on vacation.In the 20 years since, theseghosts have seen us, too—two children, digging themselves outso as not to be buried alive.
Start to Summer
Lost light fixture, hanging smoke alarms ringing— I can’t wake you. The last night: sharing my twin bed, your furnace/your face. When you love me, you rest your head on mine and leave it there, forgetting that it’s heavy. It hurts to feel you, but you call me girl over and over and it makes usContinue reading “Start to Summer”
The South in Summer
The south in summer— feet bare trail hopping in a cotton-candy-colored skirt, flowing neatly below the knees. The sun is his periphery and it dips into the water, shine stretching the length, dyeing the top of his nose: the kind of scene that makes you regret Godlessness. I touch it for a moment— touch theContinue reading “The South in Summer”
You like dive bars, and so do I. Walking away, my heels lick the road. No one knows this city like we know this city. From behind, you bent— kissed the hook of my back. Like a tree, carving your name on me. All around me is stale water. I look at my hands, think:Continue reading “Whistle Song”
Missed Connections: Treasure Trove
I finally sat down and connected the lines I was gathering for a found poem based on Craigslist’s m4w Missed Connections section. I mostly wanted to write it for the first line—the first line is just awesome (and, absurdly, I wish it had been posted for me). Also, the OkCupid email on the bottom ofContinue reading “Missed Connections: Treasure Trove”
In the night, the building is still—the pipes dry, the floorboards cold. Everything is tainted a strange gray, only sleep is in color. The passing train vibrates her stomach like an eager violin and she knows: Every night we surrender ourselves— she will die tonight and wake up tomorrow reborn. The ghosts of the oldContinue reading “Prospect”
In Common My father dove through the sky 19 times— once while I watched. No more than four, I only remember his last ten feet and then ground, the parachute like a dress around him. Now, on a drive up to Sacandaga Lake: a diver swimming down toward the trees, lazily falling like a belatedContinue reading “In Common”