February 23, 2026
February 14, 2026
“You want someone to move into your world,” he says, “But, I want someone to move into mine.”
February 14, 2026
Paper hearts, and roses red, for some, the day is filled with dread. Some spend the day with their “only.” Some merely spend the day lonely…
February 14, 2026
It’s the scent that lingers in those moments,
the breeze that carries their name
to you, when you’re feeling alone.
February 9, 2026
My walking armor I wear to confront life, my seduction weapon that feeds staring eyes craving for beauty and feminity...
February 3, 2026
So singular was their purpose — I wanted my friends to feel the weight of their
craving, but they were not present. They were hidden somewhere, pressed against a dark obsession with their position, they battled their worries from day to day.
February 2, 2026
He is stout and portly, as he tells the future shortly. He’s a bit of a coward, preparing to run when, at the Knob, he first sees the sun.
February 2, 2026
“everyone who works below
and who drives through dirty snow
hopes that once the plow’s relief is nearly nigh,
all their work won’t be undone”
January 27, 2026
I’m sure there is some scientific explanation,
but the idea of the clouds needing to let it all out is nicer.
Even storms need to pause and rest awhile.
January 17, 2026
I’m going to see my sis today.
She loves when I tell
her stories. [Laugh.] So I’m
wearing my fossil bracelet with
a chambered nautilus [66 million
years old]; Amber [I’ll make up
a date]; A shark tooth — not a fossil.
January 3, 2026
We were simpatico, mostly, except when you slipped into your father’s skin. Your dad and mom were hand in glove, you bragged. His hand, her pliant glove, I thought, but never said.
January 1, 2026
what lies behind the speaking oceans? what resides between the words trees have spoken? what have the hums of my ancestors awoken?