Posts
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yom kippur
the world was gray and cold when i rolled out of bed,
the first frost of the season just barely
kissing the ground. i tied the morning
into shoelace knots and hugged forgiveness to my chest.
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i can't remember when i last said the pledge of allegiance
i know all the words, of course. who doesn't? we are practically
brainwashed into our knowing, having to stand and face the flag
(when did you learn that it was hand over heart &
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letter to anyone who thinks they're not enough
you are.
and: you don't have to be.
let yourself exist.
sleep in late.
make your favorite foods.
hug your shoulders, your knees, not to hide behind but to marvel at.
you are marvelous.
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rosh hashanah
means head of the year,
tippy-top, press restart, new year, wind it up, begin again,
clean slate, fresh sheet of paper. so get out your markers.
we're going to draw ourselves a better world.
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ode to the girl in my homeroom who only speaks french
she came up behind me one day & tapped me on the shoulder
i spun on my heel, unsteady, a dumb american consistently
ashamed of my language
she pointed at my face and drew a heart in the air with her thumbs
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pumpkin patch in september
when the time comes
i am not ready.
as in,
the ground beneath me is still dew-soft with summer
and i am just barely stretching awake
to a morning not yet frosted over. they grab my stem
Loves
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Skate Parks
1.
There was this game about a skate park. I think there was also one about a BMX course, but the one that I haunt is the skate park.
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A Girl, 9:43 p.m.
She has just showered, and her hair hangs limp down her back, washed of the shampoo she waited five minutes, forehead against the cool tile wall, to rinse off. The sky is ink and charcoal, but then, it has been for hours.
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Winter's Lanterns
Winter caught my Christmas lights
and froze them into icicles—
now even the cold knows how to shine.
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The Samurai
Japan, 1863. Across the globe, the civil war rages.
I made the long walk
Across the plains,
through the village path
under the stars.
At long last, I came to the monastery
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Moon Like a Clock, Dreams Like a Story
Elouise could hardly breath in the corset she was being strapped into.
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The shape of yesterday
I used to race my shadow down the sidewalk,
thinking if I ran fast enough
I could outrun time.
Now I walk slower,
because somewhere along the way
time learned my name.
I still sit in the same car seat,