Category: Past
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Dosing 🎧
I’m sorry it would seemyou intrudedin this moment where my feelings of safety have beenruptured. I have been told, “You are the eldestdaughter, despiteyour birth order.” I’m sorryit would seemyou caught me at capacity.I’ve beenholding a networktogether for too long, and I’d like to stop. I notice sometimes,those one or two line doses feel like…
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Transluscent Gloves
I’m trying to make sense of what I narrated in my Voice Memo app this morning. I’d like to turn it into something. I keep thinking of translucent gloves: wet and buried in mud. It feels like the stack of unanswered text messages sitting inside my phone, open loops that go against my character. Against…
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Superhero Vaginas
I curse thee algorithm and our phones listening to us. The last ad I saw was: “Your vagina is a superhero.” All because I’m admittedly both curious and interested in learning about perimenopause. I can’t help myself. I know what my hormones do to me thanks to PMDD; I’m not about to finally experience relief…
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the Moon in Leo
Sitting on the cold floor in a patch of warm sunlight, with Gigi circling me.I text my boss, “I’m working from home to watch her.”She’s been on the mend from a pancreatitis flare up, and I think we’re finally in the clear. I kept her (and her seriously stinky butt) out of the crate and…
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Boom Boom Math
This equationhas no resolution.Light floods a roomwith someone who is see-through,and one who looks away.Inside the gaps that feedan undercurrentof creative selfishness,I hopelessly look foran answer that lives insidemy finger makingdoodles across water vapor trapped on glass.Later, on a chilly firewood scented evening,I touch shoulderswith friends.Their laughtergrounding me,reminding meI’m fine with whatI don’t understand.(Daily Writing…
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not being real
From a second-floor balcony, I hear a sneeze that sounds forced and theatrical, followed by a friendly hello.
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Marian’s Bike Rides
She’s become a familiar landmark, like the curves of the road she glides through effortlessly.
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a Death Doula on yearning 🎧
I wonder what she is feeling for, what she is noticing, as I talk at her. Because she is a death doula, we often come to the topic of death, which I find equally soothing as the moment she wraps a heavy hot towel around my neck and face.
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Everglazed
… I see the old couple who have their own Saturday routine. The husband always taps the window and waves excitedly at Gigi, not me, to be perfectly clear.
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Silk Walled World
Beside it rests my childhood bear, which doesn’t strike me as odd. Pappy’s glass eyes seem waterlogged, as if they’ve absorbed a thousand tears.
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my Talisman
And my favorite, a piece of selenite (Satin Spar), sacred to Selene, the Greek goddess of the moon.
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You & Ube & the Sky
You can tell who closed efficiently by the neat rows of chairs, angled just so; other mornings it’s chaos, with paper chef hats and chopsticks scattered for squirrels to drag away.
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The Tower and the Boxer
The night before, the electric in my house kept flickering. One room smelled faintly of smoke. “Costly?” I ask, pushing her to continue.
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Last Nine Days of Poetry Sedation
I left poetry books everywhere. On top of the washing machine and on end tables and bookshelves, not stacked neatly.
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Chocolate Berry-Cherry
because goddamnit if we aren’t being the pinnacle of health so we may be lucky to die with our skin still glowing