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SEPARATION RITUALS
We are in the magic-room, as she is calling it. I write that down. She is cute and funny, even now. But of course she is. She calls it a sanctuary. I write that down too. My mom is working so hard On making this place beautiful. She is not here. …
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River, river, I’m broken/sinking down
It’s 4 in the morning and you’re pulling at my bedsheets again. I’d like to think I’m the boulder willing river water into a million little Vs, the shapes of teeth on parted lip, buzzing. In my memory, you appear on my doorstep dripping, shoes tied up with seaweed and pockets weighed down with shells.…
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Spring March 24
I Now daffodils bloom in watercolor spirit Skies of tender pastel blend into the lingering warmth of caramel breaths in the air. A girl sighs in the distance, going somewhere, smiling occasionally, scowling sometimes at the cherry blossoms or the green grass. She looks at something with hope and worry, maybe about to lose…
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wearing weighted blankets
first semester, i read and wrote and p-setted, claimed dual residency in forbes and ncw so i could eat until my mouth and stomach begged “no more,” got home everyday to lovely humans who never fail to make me laugh and that hasn’t changed since second semester. but second semester, i’m wearing weighted blankets …
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Prufrock’s Letters
Mente mia, che presaga de’ tuoi damni, Al tempo lieto già pensosa e trista, Sí ‘ntentamente ne l’amata vista Requie cercavi de’ futuri afanni 1. Let us go now, til it be that all you and I can see is made the slightest bit unstable; along these fine rain-slickened streets run along these sticky,…
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A dream of mending
Our skies sink further into dust and while we wait for cloud-made seams, the earth tears limb from limb, and trusts that we will mend her — so it seems. As fires rage through forests deep, we find ourselves in stubborn dreams in obstinate, unyielding sleep, awaiting savior to come, to beam like…
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After the Beast Within
In the Earth, Cicadaboy Has an Out-of-Body-Experience Sweat on slate like spilt brain ejaculate, like old sun god’s been plugging holes with lead again, old dog dying of heat stroke again, it’s Thursday, and a series of freak thunderstorms is set to just tear across the county this afternoon, into the evening, the night,…
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The scourge of the decaf fiend: thou shalt be unproductive
“I must confess / I have been sitting at this corner table for two whole hours / writing my Senior Thesis™ / but I was just pretending…”
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On electromagnetism, bodies, and the nature of overthinking
“We sit together, our two bodies close, but not touching. They say that opposites attract, but there is a void between us, a siren.”
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A Haibun for our Fallen Leaves
“Short breaths are suspended like smoke, naked against the frail air.”
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