Speech Impediment

You often says things in which I can say little in return—my growing deficiency—and the sky turns yellow. We lay a blanket in a field…

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Writing Process

This is one of those poems that is not very good, needs a ton of editing but will not get out of my head. I…

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No Skin Included.

Break open the branch. Inside– there is lime and tree foam. Like marrow. The white liquid that illuminates the skin, full of leaves and freshly-plucked…

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All Memory

It was late, and the sky had long past burst and cleared into stars when it ran from the trees, like a mass, illuminated into…

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Photo Shoot

You stand suspended, the ladder which seems to swim against a white ceiling. I lay in a curve of color—I imagine somewhere, the wind is…

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It Ends With Three.

And the hands begin floating out in the open— all fingers like predisposed tiger lilies. * In the end, there is water hung over the…

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