Posts
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Pomegranate
She conjures the list of groceries for her monthly run
to the local shop that is spelled with an extra “pe”--
and for whatever ancient reason, it is spelled like that --
the rectangular sheet of lined paper only says the word -
Coming of Woman
I never understood certain phrases as a girl.
“She wears her heart on her sleeve,” they told my father
And he would agree and I would play smart
And I would agree despite my own obliviousness. -
Who defends peace with chaos?
I.
we are The abandoned forget-me-nots.
wide-eyed but in doubles, surrounded by others
without mothers or fathers alike.
huddled together around a candle like the rats -
Iced Chai
I have never been good at trying new foods.
I tend to stick to the usual; waffles, dino nuggets, goldfish, and such…
Whenever I try something new it is monumental. -
A Reminder
I keep reminding myself that this journey is not linear.
That the unbroken skin isn’t calling to make it dirty again.
That my presence shouldn’t have to shrink with growing insecurities. -
How Was It?
It was beautiful-
It was rushed like the people of New York
trying to arrive at their final destination.
It was long overdue like all the library books I store
in the corners of my room that collect too much dust.
Loves
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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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ode to washing my face in the sink
this old sink,
hanging onto the wall by a thread
and a rusted pipe,
gushes water that still runs clear,
even after the generations of girls
(in pig- and pony-tails, braids and loose)
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death bed
You push me out to sea
With every toll life takes.
My wood is deteriorating
With thousands of years.
I've held village girls
And I've held mothers.
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Unbecoming
The streets have teeth and we hold our fingers with enough space for the others and drink cider on a corner where the ceiling above us blinks blue-blue-blue onto her tonsil-pink dress and someday I hope I never have to see it in a suitca
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january to july
in the months of darkness and cold, i never stopped writing.
i just kept it all to myself. every night, my own religion
pages of pen poised on paper, pouring my heart out
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Acceptance before Change
On September 2 of 2022, I packed three short sleeve shirts, two long sleeve shirts, and four pairs of pants into a backpack and left my house in Sharon, VT, for four months on an intensive expedition semester school: Kroka Expeditions’ L