losing track of time the hours are slipping and so am I cloudy eyes fuzzy brain 4:55am searching for that perfect combination of words to arrange for you but right now I wipe the sleep tired eyes Ready to keep going  

this deep and wicked loves (inspired by phrased found in “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” by T. S. Eliot.  These phrases will be in italics in the new poem) we fell into this love deep and wicked piled high with sharp-sided facets we…

Reflections on an experiment in self love  my mixed blood waters down my colour but not the weeping of our people when my head turns to face the land no longer ours – which feels the same as when he looks at me through blurry…

forward moving one foot in front of the other to keep our heads above water when paths wash out in flash floods forcing us into kayaks when we thought running shoes would do.   having a compass astrolabe star chart is good practice even if…

I hover behind the bodies of traveling friends, at peace and waiting within. I am here, I reassure myself, buoyed by their blind support. None turn back, but their love is pervasive just the same. Their attention is focused on the next stop, to a…

There’s never been a worse time than too late Ever after nothing matters the past has passed and will not retreat no matter how you entreat implore beseech beg supplicate on knees, clenched fists the tears of salt and blood I failed to be your…

So tell me love did your fingers blister when you snuffed out our flame was there remorse the day after next of when you realized your side of the bed was cold and empty I often wonder play that day back Stuck on repeat with…

Dear Peddlers of Chocolate, I have to take a second to tell you that you are a hazard. Your wares are worse than crack or flesh or slangers of “happy pills” made to make us forget ourselves and how we hurt.   My beautiful waist…

  pools of colour   these rainy streets feel like Christmas when streets are dressed in light like whores on their days off waiting for a new date: all flash no fantasy.   these night bus rides make me sad: the farther I get from…

Bound to you, I cannot see the future. Where am I going, where have I been- those are questions you answer willingly, quickly doling out responses, no hesitation in your voice. What do you see? A body bound by you. Kept close, tied tight, like…