Posts
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Questions for the Spirits That Haunt Graveyards
One
Does a willow still weep just as loudly
even when it has no leaves to cry with
in the baneful dead of winter?
Two
Are there still more colorful flowers -
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.
Loves
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A Letter for Everyone on YWP – One Last Time
Dear YWP,
The first time I wrote you a letter I was 13.
The second, 15.
I'm 18 now; how time flies, my lovely people.
And this is the last letter.
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I Saw the Tv Glow
Have you ever seen the TV glow?
We have all seen the blinding light the TV gives off,
But have you truly seen it glow?
I Saw the TV Glow,
And for the first time, I felt peace-
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The glow of the TV
Do you remember the time
that you and I
spent in front of the TV?
We watched Disney cartoons
and the world around us
stopped.
I rememberwhen nothing else mattered
and we could just be.
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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.