So what do I do with all of these kisses unspent? They’ve been accumulating in this little blue ceramic cup in my bathroom, gathering dust and hair and forgotten promises. Two weeks ago, someone told me they were collecting them. Said they like creating things with them, that they’re just the perfect shape and size.… Continue reading

Something’s stirring Something I can’t quite name, there are no words for the flavor of it This something came alive today when I saw the watercolor of a velvet fig at a local artist’s booth. I could see it in my kitchen, the one I haven’t moved into yet. Another spark of it when I… Continue reading

I’m sad today, thinking about her. I wonder why? Could it be related to the dream I had last night? The one where I knew she was sprinting after me? In it I was terrified. I think she killed one of my friends, but I woke up before finding out who exactly. In the next… Continue reading

You’re driving a helicopter made of legos, lifting me on a Lego speedboat. A goodbye letter with three sheets of paper, one sheet stapled backwards and in the wrong order. There are pictures of the vintage items you’ve acquired, a rotary phone, a giant wooden loom that takes up most of your living space. You… Continue reading

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I’m glad I never went looking Because I’d never find what it was I was searching for. She writes of her father, her mother, the men she almost let love her and the boys she let herself be young with back in school. But there are no words for me. Was the summer we spent… Continue reading

I’ve got things to say, things she’s not picking up And yesterday I started the unraveling I said a while ago that I didn’t care that her hair was falling out, but that’s not the truth. Of course I care. I care even though today she is beautiful and cruel and cold. She obsesses over… Continue reading

I’m gonna say it. I’m gonna say it. I don’t care that you’re balding. Continue reading

It’s so weird reading old text messages Like oh yeah, I used to say that a lot And I forgot we talked about this back then And especially I should have trusted my gut when I sent that. I’m reading through old texts between me and my Washington friend, rare ones where I talk about… Continue reading

My father is so good, he is so kind. He’s so kind it hurts. It hurts because I know now that this world isn’t kind to kind men, it’s mean. It’s tough. It tells them that unless theyre invincible, they’re weak, that they’re not strong enough, that they need to be more for a family,… Continue reading