Posts
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Afterlife
Oh, look at the leaves.
Look at how they fly.
Look at how they circle,
Freckling the sky.
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Listening to Wind
It is September, yet
I can still hear the beach.
The sea moves and swells;
it tumbles to the shore,
dusts itself off,
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I think my parents deserve to be happy.
They deserve to laugh and sit on the floor and coo over babies.
They deserve to talk in a language I don’t understand.
They deserve to look at each other with love.
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Providence
Sweat gathers everywhere as
I climb the golden pavement.
The known ways, the known faces
are waves in the sound.
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Strangers
Strangers
are the closest companions.
You take a shot
and I let it go.
You say I’m pretty
and I let it go.
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Loves
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What Books Get Wrong About Old Houses
You can't skip over the third stair
if you're sneaking into the kitchen
because all the stairs creak,
just in different ways.
They don't talk about the light
in the closet
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