There’ll be no blood

for the work that wasn’t seen

It’s gratitude and a toast in your honor

It’s precious

 It’s a snapshot

Men kill for every reason

Only sometimes apologizing later

Umbrella thoughts

Protection needs waterproof boots

And I need you and nothing 

If the mother is the enemy

it’s only the prison of the patriarchy

How much love is there without acknowledging she struggles?

She loves as deeply as you could imagine

From the moons we can’t see and back again

But the ladder is long to the farthest moon

and the climb hurts, 

her hands are sticky 

We could wait forever 

Or chose to give it to the bees

And to ourselves

Grieve for your child

Grieve for her child

Where will you be safe?

Darling, are any of these boats safe? 

No one has left, 

the gallery walls are full

and singing

in my dreams 

The hours are wider there

lanes allow space

salt enters

and salt is

like invisible glitter

and the sun

the sun is perfection

diffused to softness

the sun is wider there

Swimming pools

eucalyptus and jasmine

Eating the air is wild magic

skin sparkles

ears pop in the canyons

The sky is wider there

twist it

hold it

sell it

buy it

burn it

Make it shake

and all the heartbeats inside

she loves them

There’s a boat of roses

She’s got excuses

she called for backup

she held the ladder

she drank the rain she made

and cooked the invisible heart

she found inside the empty seashell

Did you see the deer that live on the beach?

They row into the night

into your dreams

into the trash

the green ghosts left behind

because they never sort out their business

before they escape to the next bed on the map

The next bed

The next map

She’s got a brain made of flowers

she’s a gold and blue fool

So if you want to find her

she may be walking with those sandy deer

slicing the moon like cake

under the witches’ favorite trees

She’s a little flower

a new story

She loves the repetitive dream

over and over again

She was in a bed of lions

trying to see the desert

through the glow

She freed her hands

ate the cactus

felt the hope

in two houses

covered in confetti

and heart shaped joy

They thought she wasn’t beautiful for years

She’s in the ghost town now

where the devil cheers

I’m jealous of the trees with their sways and no places to go
I’m jealous of her ears with holes that carry heavy with light
I’m jealous of their shameless healing
I’m jealous of first snuggles and first stair climbs
I’m jealous of the warm wind’s power and autonomy
I’m jealous of the new art on their skin and walls
I’m jealous of movement and soaring flight
I’m jealous of the pages he writes and fills with sentences that take people places
I’m jealous of places with plates of food
I’m jealous of being full and grateful after seeing the city from the highest elevator
I’m jealous of airy clothes and a brief encounter that doesn’t make me angry
I’m jealous of the vine, she’s finding her way wherever she wants
I’m jealous of the patience of mountains
I’m jealous of the rivers laughing at time
I’m jealous of what the desert knows
I’m jealous

The angles have been on attack

who’s wearing more blues

I’ll remember covered faces,

coffee orders, and

I know I’m not supposed to be here today

Who’s supposed to be here today

who’s the sun hiding while she weeps

Spring brings fear

for hopeful flowers,

Will I be matching masks to dresses?

Because life wasn’t dangerous enough

Have you ever mistaken a petal

for a needle cap

Have you heard the prettiest song in words you didn’t know,

but you knew it was love

You know when it’s love

Your gold space in the dark shhhhh

twinkle of a demon

Who ate time like a sandwich

because time is the villain

who has so many bruises

He got married in October

He got married in June

He got married in January

He got married in December

She seems to forget

how we almost died in the icy trees.

The end of summer makes me angry

like a stomping brat

I want to say no

I want to scream to the darkening days

I want to cry at the heat abandoning me

My ambitious glow is set on go

I’m angry at the shortened sun

I don’t care how delicious I think cinnamon and cloves smell

and taste

I won’t let you see how beautiful I know the colors are

in the sleeping trees

or how the orange air feels blue in my lungs

My first fit of disappointment will continue

until spring

(when I’ll appear a busy lion)

and I promise it’ll be worse in winter


my bleeding hands are chopped up with tiny cold axes

I wear layers over my cartooned skin


warm hats

warm glares

I’d rather miss it in my soul than experience it

forget me not flowers

are magic

she’s in there

When the wind is fire

and the rain sounds like fire

orange lights on leaves – could be fire

headlights- definitely fire

Fire cracking

Fire popping

Fire exploding

when I hope

when I scream

when I whisper into your hair,

“the sirens are coming.”

“Why didn’t you fucking tell me you were going through this?”

he took down his double-stacked pants

to reach the vein

in front of a frosted window

that doesn’t open

slow and loose feet follows follows

no falls

compassion puffs smoke in the air

and dropping



into flight

peeking through paper ribbons