It Snows Here
It’s snowing here. I think about calling to tell you this, but I don’t call you anymore. It sounds like that Drake song, but it’s because Drake knows the truth. I could see… Continue reading
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On What We Owe
Sometimes when I talk about you, which I do, I do talk about you, they ask me if I’m sad or if we still talk. And my answer is always the same. I’m… Continue reading
the exception
I am reminded lately of how I felt before my last move, the one which brought me to these tan hills and high desert and river lover years. The knowing of change is… Continue reading
on convitction
I forget sometimes, the way we speak when we are are being us. I can get around on the mornings we share and the evenings we don’t speak, and it all feels like… Continue reading
on not knowing you
I knew you better before I knew you. I keep this statement in my mind cycling on repeat as I drive away, further and farther from you than I ever was when we… Continue reading
on an investigation
On these cold and changing days, window warped and ticker tape on the sidewalk, the world is a forgotten painting. I’m treading water in seas I’ve already swam so I know when to… Continue reading
On An Afternoon Boil
My mother always wandered around the house in the summers barefoot and doors open, a salt shaker in one hand and eating an egg. There’d be times where I didn’t see her eat… Continue reading
like cough syrup
I get convinced lately there is cough syrup running through my veins. Perhaps it’s the heat. It slows everything around you and I. I wind up lying in the backyard and counting stars… Continue reading
everything you want
We get circular on one another, deja vu in the deli section of the grocery store. Your hands on my hands in a movie theaters. I’ve been here before. I’ve gotten good lately… Continue reading
a letter for the lonely
I get you. I get brittle finger bones and watching the leaves wave. I get heart palpitations from listening to the local country radio station as I drive. Windows down, hair in knots,… Continue reading
on self
If I could tell you anything, I’d talk about streetlights in California and the first time I saw myself in need. I’d drink stale red wine all afternoon just to get good at… Continue reading
on the streets
We sit with bone crushed hands beneath the table making sure there are still knuckles to hold everything together. I’ve been shocked lately by how quick currents can carry us away from one… Continue reading
On What You Are
you are calloused hands and tangled curls long drive one lane roads home burnt timber, wood fire stove cast iron skillets and always never always already home you are shallow creek bed, cold feet,… Continue reading
better
I am settling into my skin again. I feel less the need by the hour, by the day, to reach out and collect the pieces I keep leaving all over the hardwood floor.… Continue reading
my Idaho
you took me in like you knew me, took me like you’d been waiting for me all those years. all these years. how you had everything I never knew I never had. your… Continue reading