reclaim your voice.
“The only way is to hug the cactus.” Her inebriated lips casually spill over his black denim-ed lap. “I guess this means you must hug me,” he speaks. “With each puncture, you will learn to breathe. My intent is not to hurt you.” {I am certain he seeks to not collapse into breath} She hears…
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I carry an anthology in today’s everything bag. I pull it out while waiting for the next thing: coffee, the nurse to call me in, the bus to come, the sky to fall. Reading it exponentiates shared stories, raising internal voices, outing me into the crowd, the transport, the enshrined clouds. I find myself glancing…
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Whiskey sour. Whiskey sweet. Wisk her heart. Beat her Eggs into an om Lette her devour it From a thirstless hunger. You know best, After all. And yet, She knows enough Not to run on An empty storm Ache. __ photo by samane mohammadi on unsplash. om, n., a mystic syllable, considered the most sacred mantra in Hinduism and Tibetan…
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image from 1944 film Gaslight, starring Ingrid Bergman and Charles Boyer, source: “What Does Gaslight Even Mean?“ __ can I stop by?I need a needle and thread to sew on a button. can I stop by? I need your advice. I stepped in. I had to.can you believe he would hit is own mother? can I…
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I find our tribal human mind will always fight against the heart, missing the soul of the matter at hand. Unless the steady mentor’s brush meets the tree’s gold-infused sap, patiently stroking our scars to rejoin us we remain broken, shards of ceramic tea pots, waitingto pair our bitter matchawith their coupled sweet. __ This…
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At the age of 22, I met the 63-year-old Armenian woman who had given me up for adoption. On the evening of that breathtaking day I stood in her bedroom. We spoke through our reflection in the mirror in front of us. I felt small, not in the five-foot way I was used to, but…
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My story is so nearly relevant, I forget and roll my eyes. Devil in savior’s clothes.Chooses strong women to destroy.Feeds his need for power, not so much to enjoy.{climax} his ego & impatient impulsesblind him. his triangulatedpitted fruits gather, withselfless, patient pistols restingat their soldier hips.Protests him out of town. {climax} Our storyHas a modern twist…
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I keep thinking; These fleeing, mournful, frightened creatures- These are the true homeless climate refugees. I keep thinking; Nature will return. Nature is bigger than this moment. I keep thinking; This is how life ends? With humans who only lend a hand that results in power? With humans who refuse their neighbors’ pale of…
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{{{strong shimmer…..} there will be no genocide today. no martyrs to make. We do not waste time on trifles.Leap, my daughter, from yourself.Fly off the edge of tonight’s Mount\ed Araratif that’s what it takes. We do not fret for your fall.The anchoring foothills of Noah’s long journey are soft. We do not recommend you ignore…
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