I want the autumn days that turn into autumn eveningsand I want us to skip straight over winter andright to spring,taking a brief detour into summer before popping back into autumn.I want slightly cold breezes so you can lend me your scarf,I want to protest that you’ll be cold and be silenced with a kiss, … Continue reading Little Somethings
Snow makes everything so quiet doesn’t it?Even your heartbeat, usually thrumming in your ears, or the ticking of the giant clock in the kitchen that reverberates through the house, careening off the high ceilings to trickle in under your doorway, sneaking into your awareness. Even the soft creaking of the house as it sighs and settles and wonders when … Continue reading The Space Between Seconds
Let’s dramatically feed each other grapes and sing poems at the top of our lungs. Let’s try a new dance we saw online and trip over our own feet, into one another. Maybe we can link our arms and skip down a narrow street,trying to make the other one step on a crack. Maybe a bird will chirp at us … Continue reading Let’s
A peculiar feeling of bittersweetnesslike shedding your summer skin to make room for the rawness of autumn,cold breezes penetrating deep into your bones.You’ve been asleep for months, lulled by the warmth and humidityof things being “just fine,”when the sharp tongue of the first breeze hits your cheek,shocking you awake and making you burrow into your covers,only … Continue reading Summer Skin
it flits just out of sight, enough to make you rub your eyes and wonder if you really saw it. a breeze and a buzz around your ear, a giggle that echoes gently as you whip your head around and fail to see it once more.
Six of them, arranged just so, framing my head like a hand at the nape of my neck, drawing me closer to kiss my forehead. Six. Always six. Six strewn around me, tossed off the side while my hand grips another or holds it over my face so my gasps don’t wake my roommate. Six … Continue reading Six
He told me that small spiders will jump from tree to tree, bush to bush, letting a delicate string carry them safely on the wind, leaving residue behind that we walk into in the mornings. I listened, absorbed, nodded and wondered where my own string would lead if I jumped away from him.
I wanna dance around my kitchen with you, letting the music move us, spinning my head until my hair clings to the light sweat on my brow catches in my eyelashes and I blame my dizziness on the spins. I want you to jokingly shake your hips and be a surprisingly good dancer. I want … Continue reading Dizzy
i miss the smell of the grass after it rains when the earth below is so saturated that it takes all of my self control not to kick off my shoes and bury my feet ankle-deep. when you inhale deeply, and the moisture fills you up up up up till you feel lightheaded with the … Continue reading after it rains
I adopted a cactus today, that never before saw the light of day. As a homecoming, I showed him the sunset. He didn’t react.