Image Source: Unsplash- Dillon T. The water hurts my stomach  breathing in the smoke rings  Ophelia left behind when the Willow tree snapped, when the boughs could no longer take her weeping every day, when the bends of tissue scorched ribs was too much for it to take, when they decided to sacrifice her with…

Image Source: Unsplash- Mars Immigrant Once it was said that August was a melancholy month: a sobering pill that’s hard to swallow, which you’ll cradle in the pothole of your tongue.  The coffee is percolating in the corner and I can taste the coldness of your breath as a burgundy bloom spills like champagne over…

Image Source: Pexels- Stephen Leonardi On Good Friday, we crack eggs and usher prayers over  offerings of French Toast drip          drip                       dripping  over the wet of the yolk to make angel smiles of yellow boomerangs on countertops against napkin folds piecing together my own  portrait of sunshine to fill our bellies with the sweetness of…

Image Source: Unsplash- Ivan Lapyrin Cradled in the crook  of the lyrics that haunt my bedtimes both the old and new:  a bundled unit tacky with old glue trying to destabilise the aging versions  of me and you, weaving myself amongst the constellations  in the hierarchies of the stars starting so small yet  dreaming so…

I push a seed through the dirt, bursting the watery film of membrane wrapped around the soil’s cranium  with tendon-deep greed and the strained color spill of fleece white knuckles digging for color  hoping to swap samples of sap for the gooey, numb blood  of truffles and evergreens and gold wanting to extract pine needles …

Line me up with  your hands gloved in garden – barbed wire thorns to lacerate soft flesh and mark scars like the passage of time bind my hands like a hook on a string  to the boards that defy the waves of my back and force-feed me between your finger and thumb  ripe like the pearls…