Posts
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Jokesgiving
my family has claimed thanksgiving.
it's our holiday, you know,
the one we do the best,
and so it must be ours. we're joking,
mostly, but it's true we do thanksgiving very well
probably overdo but it's better
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golden sky at 7:05
the world is orange
and i mean orange
like a sepia photo in which your grandparents
stand stiff & silent,
unsmiling, their clothes starched
for the occasion,
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ode for the girls in seventh grade
you’re perfect.
all of you.
and i don’t need to say more
but i will
because i want to write about every one of you
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to the boy at the lockers, one above and to the right, not meant as an apology
I was in love with him once. I think.
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second snow
I am chanting verse 9 of my first aliyah,
a bowl of blackberries and apple cinnamon Cheerios beside me,
fingers twirling the spoon, when -
out the window, there is snow.
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FIRST SNOW
ugh it's raining again,
i text my best friend when i wake up & look out the window
onto an already gray & gloomy world.
rain rain rain rain rain rain rainy november like all
Loves
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mid-afternoon thoughts
periwinkle-blue light through my shuttered windows
my heart is racing but my mind is blank with things I don't know how to express
that k-drama I just watched stirred something in me
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What next
Next week is the dance
and you cut her off
Next month is my birthday
and you tore her heart from her chest with your own two hands
Next year is high school
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jar of joy
there's a jar on my nightstand;
it used to be my grandmother's
but i recycled her memory
into a pandora's box full of happiness.
the slips of paper are periwinkle
with dark purple penned messily,
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strangers.
it feels weird
walking past you like strangers
knowing i still remember
everything about you
from your favorite color
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moonstruck
this night
the light is a milky, silvery blue
cascading down from the sky
in rays that look like liquid silk
dripping off tree branches
and coating the world in a cool, heavenly glow
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Lumineers on Vinyl
I need pretty things;
I need the Lumineers singing
about flowers on vinyl, and
I need stained glass bubbles twinkling
in the window, and
to see my poetry scrawled in