Jun 05


May 30

too late

sometimes we all take  
more than we can give
we long for rains
that never fall
we catch wishes 
that were never made
we taste the soil 
before it blows away
it’s a full moon tonight
and i’ll finally breathe the stars 
maybe next time
you’ll catch me 


May 27

The Race

I am small. 

Every night when the moon
makes its presence in the dark sky
I am reminded of something
than me.

I like the feeling of escape. 
Falling out of normal.

It makes me nervous to explode into 
something so large

even the seas
don’t know how it started.
The need to escape. 

I left the other day.

Flew above the moon.

But I'm not that important 
and you're much too used to leaving what you love. 

I think you admire the moon. 
I think you long to touch it. 

going   leaving 


I never touch you.

I'm too afraid of fire. 

May 19

Santa Fe, Texas

It’s numbing to see so many people 

so many
so many
so many

This Keeps Happening. 

It keeps happening
and still people tell me
“It’s rare,
it won’t happen to you,
you shouldn’t be scared”

no, I should be.

i should be scared
for my future.

i should be scared
for all of those poeple
who don’t have one anymore.

i should be scared 
of taking life for granted. 

i should be scared
of letting go.

i should be scared 
to forget.

And yet. 
When I see the breaking news
in my inbox on Friday 
all I think is: 
May 18

River Rain

She whispers the weather
to you in class
through clenched teeth.
Something about winter
and rain. 

You know how warm the sun
is and how summer rain
feels like a mild shower
but she doesn’t seem to notice
and pulls on extra jackets
and boots for outside.

You knew she was sensitive. 

You hug her to keep her warm
and proceed to get rained on  
in the process:
water droplets radiate
from her hood. 

You like the way
the water clings to her eyelashes
and dampens her cheeks.
“It’s just some rain” she concludes
quietly and so sure of herself.

You know before
she was just afraid
of too much water 
all at once. 
So much
she probably
couldn’t find her feet. 

You know you’re just afraid
of losing her
to the raging river
and the deep mud
that clouded your pond out back. 
May 17

The Great Drop

Some days 
I feel like I'm falling apart
at the edges.

Like every breath
I pull in is on the verge of tears. 

Some days I feel like the ocean
could drop right
on top of my head
and it would still feel better than this.

At least I would know why I was drowning. 

It happens more often now
where my overwhelming happiness
is stolen; washed away
so suddenly I don't even catch a glimpse 
of the attacker. 

It's like some part of me has been squeezed out. 
 Sometimes you save me. 
Other times I just let my self sink. 

May 10

Night Swimming

Today I listened to the wind. 
The kind of listening that takes over
all senses.
It washed me away. 

Overwhelming. The way it starts to breathe for you.
As. If. You. Might. Drown. 

You look like you might have been swimming. 
But you never admit to loving the river enough to skip school.
I ask to join you next time. 

You don't respond.

I know you laugh like the sun. 
It's hard not to notice. 
"Wishing for unforgiving things is sometimes dangerous." 

I told you
how much it means to me, living with the tides.

I know it's like you said the first night I swam in the dark
"Darkness is only a by-product
of something too sunken to name."
I wish I could tell you
I knew what that meant. 

I wish I could tell
I know the difference
between darkness and water. 

May 10

Loving You

It's like laying down 
fruit and pebbles 
in a basket;
like running on eggs;
curtained shadows 
in a lost stream 
of thought. 

It's like falling up. 
Like dancing
in swolen circles.

Like rubbing off 
a purple tone 
from shriveled flowers.

It's tinder waiting 
for fire. 

I love you for the stars
and never the tide.