burning wings inflamed by whits of growth’s friction
or sparked in fated fall
flutter from scapula to dirt
as habit makes her scratchy nest in my clavicle
(a friend who keeps my back bent)
and i am reminded the mechanics of how
i’ll never take flight Continue reading “untitled”

Rage woke me

Rage woke me, her busy brain sad and
shaken by the imperfect shapes of the day
and we wept at what she saw lost between the exchange of promise and possibility.

She wouldn’t rest and asked for stories
so I mucked up memories until she purred
and our morning sorrows slowed.

I am so easily seen by her Continue reading “Rage woke me”

I used to be so lonely, now I never have been.

I’ve been this self for maybe four years and before her, I was plaster and seaweed, stiff and slimy.
Hadn’t been cracked or cleaned yet and consequently moved through life as a sleek lump could.
She wasn’t weaker but she wasn’t wise.
She her me was lonely along the lines of a straight flat road continuing through a night with no morning, she never believed in the sun and so it never rose, and all that disbelief bottled in the bottom of her brain for double decades and festered.
I used to be so lonely, now I never have been or so it feels most days. Continue reading “I used to be so lonely, now I never have been.”