And just like that, April is over! It’s crazy how fast NaPoWriMo came and went; it seems like it was only a couple days ago that I was typing up my mid-month check-in. …

this is not something to be taken lightly; a small final song of the velvety heart rolling into the minor yawns of the earth the palm on a fever-dream’s brow i’ll call it joy, this, silk of a fig tendrils of ivy cast delicately into the spoon the light glimmers…

she was born into this world an empty bookshelf waiting to be filled with novels biographies chapbooks cookbooks zines self-help journals science-fiction thrillers test-prep aides north atlantic bird-spotting guides comics manga and coffee table books on the anatomy of cats she was born to read eager to accept fiction and tall…

isn’t it crazy to think that a whole skeleton lives inside of you? Day 28 prompt: Like acrostic poems, concrete poems are a favorite for grade-school writing assignments, so this may not be your first time at the concrete-poem rodeo. In brief, a concrete poem is one in which the…

every window a peek into someone else’s drama the evening episode which airs when the sun sets the sun sets in hues of orange and white light showcasing dinners, reunions, and lonely nights all these lonely dinners and empty reunions never feeling more alone than in the crowd always feeling…

hurries from metro to meeting under roiling clouds, the weight of the world crushed underneath him umbrellas only an accessory given the graveyard of them in the entryway, the scent of damp evergreen wafting through the foyer with the news channel forever broadcasting the weather. rain, the forever personification of the…

she is a flash in the crowd, glitter strands in her pink hair gleaming in the corners of my vision; the well-loved tote bag hanging off her shoulder containing books to sink hours and teeth into; mushroom headband scarf & mushroom chocolate bar making minds dizzy in the mystery of her; broken record shopping…

familiar returns to me in the form of routine the hum of laundry every sunday, to-do lists every week, crossed out and rewritten and rewritten again — but this time with emphasis because the deadline is in three days it always seems so silly that humans pack and then unpack their…

in the light of a new city, we settle in to sleep for the last time. these memories we keep i package with extra care, stuffed with extra socks and bundled around sweaters in case of: fragile. sometimes there is little else to say other than thank you, for your heart, for our friendship. the haze of adventure…