Posts
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Highways
It’s a clear day. The sky is blue. The grass is green. And we are driving down the highway. The journey is marked by spastic bursts of conversation and a chunkily categorized landscape. I press my nose to the glass and point. -
Prayer book
I wanted to experience Catholicism, the ritual of eating God on a dreary Sunday morning. So last winter, I hauled myself up the hill to St. -
Wet Paper
Our eyelids slowly fold,
your fingernails creasing my skin
as you tell me not to cry.
Suppressed by geometry,
there’s no room for imprecision
in our origami sorrow.
There will come a day,
when wet and wrinkled, -
Schrödinger's Cat
The refrigerator has skin.
It hums, cold through the cold night, singing to itself.
There is an emptiness wound into our mechanisms.
In the dark, I poured myself a cup of orange juice. -
Cherry Tree, Blossoming
Cherry tree, you flourish in so many fragile ways.
I shelter under your bare boughs, waiting for spring.
Time moves delicately, upward with splayed fingers.
We sit together, cold and open to loose clouds. -
Hidden
It’s a delicate thing, living,
waiting to notice the sun.
Twisted, like a autumn leaf,
I turned with your breath.
Our fingers were tangled,
together, made to be one.
Loves
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Coffee Runs
When I was a kid, I had a near perfect childhood. I had friends on the same street as me, and we rode our bikes around the neighborhood playing cops and robbers.
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Togetherness
He sits 6 feet behind the sideline, wondering how the sport in front of him works. The whistle was blown and he felt a sense of togetherness. Teammates were lined up across the bench sticking out on each end by at least 3 people.
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Glittering
I locked eyes with him, the glowing man on the stage.
He glimmered, his red hair shining under the spotlight.
That was all it took for my heart to be stolen away. -
Great Nullification
Every vow cried to the tip of a saber,
Every soul sold to a higher or lower power,
Every road paved to lead others astray,
Is nullified.
Revoked,
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To Be a Son
Blue and black blur as the football spirals through the air,
My hands outstretched,
The ball tumbling closer and closer.
I drop it.
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The Chaotic Misdemeanors of Bluejay One
A green tea bag is baking cold out on my porch
A piece of gray rock from the quarry wanted to be torched
Whipped cream pecks your cheeks with specks and flecks of blue