Reid@YWP

If I could find a color that I felt adequately described the bright bulbs outside my window, clinging to the branches of a tree I have never seen bloom, I would not use it

Some words have no place being written —

on november first we said

ohgodit'snovemberalreadywheredidallthetimego taking

up all the time in the world with our breath.

on november fifth we said

ohgodpleaseprotectushavemercyonoursins praying

"Don't wait for permission to do something creative." - Ava DuVernay 

She’s picking me up

a waterfall rushing down her cheeks

covering me

as my beads absorb

the ocean in her palm 

She’s a familiar face

This country is empty 
It is long gone 
For the days of adventure 
And truth 
Lie written in our history books 
Soon to be burned and forgotten

I remember sitting

In my mom’s lap,

Her arms curled around me,

The rocking chair creaking slightly

In the breeze of her love,

Swayed and lulled by a sea