this is where the poetry lives.

be nice to it. it's sensitive.

artist

there will be days your love comes out shaped like volcano when you’ve suffered so much fool you can’t help but cut your teeth on the back of your laughter there will be days when heartbeats drumroll the surface of your skin you told them not to come knocking but they did when you are made of ammunition there will… Read more →

easter

if there is resurrection, let us crucify everything we have broken. your heart. my heart. our words. our hope. if there is resurrection, let us slit the skin of meaning. shatter the bones of syntax and grammar. let all our promises be hanged. let us mock them, condemn them for everything they were not. if there is resurrection – and… Read more →

if you love someone

I hold you like a breath. there is a time to gather, and a time to let go. I hold you like a breath. and when I am paying attention I know exactly where you fill me in. and when you leave, when I am paying attention, I feel the spaces inside my bones collapse. my shoulders relax into perfect… Read more →

the gift of attention

There is a song that sounds like forgiveness. I forget how it goes now. But every time you look at me I think I hear the echo, Because you keep on looking. It’s how I know that somewhere, someone is still singing it. Sounds distant, like a bad tape recording of an old jukebox in the alley. And I have… Read more →