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Baseball ¾ Sleeves
Cases & Skins
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Columbus, United States
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The afternoon only ascends, denying me my desires.
Girl, Boy, Bus
She glances at him because it’s safe, his back to her, his mouth running to someone else. Her eyes roam over his his half-exposed biceps bu…
A tired prayer
Dear God, / Life is hard. Sometimes I have the strength to justify it with affirmations like “it builds character!” or “Without struggle li…
There is so much greenery around me. Green is the color of the day, of the hour, and the dusk sets a soft blue hue upon it. Green grape lea…
Yesterday a homeless woman / sat next to me / on the bus, / and I shifted away from her / and kept my eyes down / and hugged my purse / to…
Chris the traveling chef
Instead they caress.
We spent a long time there, under that wizened tree, the new spring grass yielding beneath our bodies. The sun sparkled through tender leav…
to eat on a grey winter day
Eat grapefruit, that carnal pink fruit that one must rip apart in order to enjoy. Notice each juicy aril popping in your mouth; notice the …
He allows me the luxury of staring deeply into his crystalline eyes, squinting hard as if I’m trying to see spots that aren’t there in a re…
A Note to Love
Love, you devastate me. You’re sneaky, conniving, and stubborn. You weave vines into my hair and around my neck and squeeze a choked …
My skin smells like melted sugar and wasted time and an idealistic fantasy, yours to be precise
He didn’t honor that with a response, and I smiled through the silence.
Deep set eyes immersed in deeper lake water hues / Let me float / And walk on to shore / Because I am without time / And without sturdy wa…
sharp humility that slices through my comfort and stability
I’m scared of you because you are unfathomable, at least to me. I don’t understand you, and I don’t understand why I don’t understand you b…
David is strongest diligence and softest sweetness.
stamping color into the dirty ground with every click of their heels
that spritzes the fragrance of his words into the air above my nose
Adam, make me laugh some more. / Please, won’t you stroke your beard one more time / as if you are cradling your softest thoughts? / Say “…
Sad (for lack of a better word)
I don’t know why but the sound of the vacuum makes me sad.
The skies are protesting / the inhumanity. / The clouds are rumbling / with confusion / today. / The winds blow leaves and rain / into our…
her reminders stick to the back of my mind like little rainbow post-it notes, little bright spots.
If Anthony can believe in the absence of luck, can he believe in something greater?
a primal sound of satisfaction escaping through closed, chewing mouth.
What is it called
The layers of history outnumber the syllables possible in a single word
What remains unchanged
Your hidden eyes, far too sweet to injure, / Departed,
The bitterness of my tea washes away the melancholy lingering on my tongue
the light of God in him
my distance and my breath layering within his, yes. His eyes that shout with question marks, yes.
Who am I if…
Who am I without my arrogance and without my shame, and without the continuous search for my place in society?
Ode to Honey
I like pouring honey into my morning tea. / Honey, stretching out languidly / After a relaxing evening in its pitcher. / Honey, sparkling …
From the corner of my eye, / I saw blue. / The color molded into the shape of a classic car, / Bright and vintage, / And my eyes flicked t…
They make a racket and stomp their sharp feet and open their round mouths and as they raise up act after act
Really, I’m about as unfathomable as a glass of water.
…opened the impossible lock, brushed cigarette ashes that had escaped his handcrafted cigarette off of the wood, and lifted the lid t…
The letter X
exclamations of sexy exasperation, / excellence, / explicit exploration.
“You’re very pretty”, he whispers to me, his mouth inches from mine. / What does that mean? I wonder. / He spoke that same sentence to my …
I thought you had killed yourself
I thought you had killed yourself, you know. I woke up from a fitful sleep and I spent a few fitful hours in a conscious, jarring fear. I’v…
I’ll blame it all on menopause because illusions are safer than reality.
I am alone, cowering, but still facing everything, and eventually overcoming (I simply moved myself to a different table and indulged in a …
I am not a tortured artist
I am not a tortured artist. / I didn’t endure some horrible, life-altering, childhood tragedy. / I don’t have a disfiguring scar that den…
all in a haste, all too busy to excuse themselves, some carrying shopping bags, some carrying cardboard signs, some carrying cameras, all c…
Through the child’s perspective that this book offers, I suddenly see the hope that was invisible just a little while before, and I take a …
but meaning will sneak into the car with them, into their “empty” relationships, into their loud thoughts and quiet concience.
Then they threw it in a closet with a keyless lock, knowing I would spend an eternity torturing myself over the cliched “so-near-yet-…
I could list millions of qualities that make you so wonderful, but then you probably wouldn’t read this entire letter, seeing as it takes y…
Dear _____ (III)
By the time you get this (if you ever get this), I hope we are still talking. I’m sure I’ll still love you.
Dear _____ (II)
Every touch, every hug, every kiss, every glance, every text message, every dream, every word that comes from you sets my entire being on f…
but your kisses shook the foundations of all my barriers. My walls, the ones I spent years building, crumbled in a matter of seconds.
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