Silly. Shitty. Pretty. Pity. Girl you’re a mess. Get over here. And give in to me. Careful. Crying. Tormented. Trying. Woman, you are home. Needed. Nurtured. Fulled up. and Found. Ain’t nowhere else you need to be. Nobody to tell you how to do what only you can do in that divine way you be…

I’ve lost myself in this hot sick sweat, allowed myself to be devoured– dinner for the dark. Night after night, offering myself as sacrifice… paralyzed in Hades persistence, his shadow ever-present. And yet, in this desperate fever-pitch, I notice a glimmer from the tiny flecks embedded within the black velvet of his robe. And while…

When things break apart, you feel this salty undercurrent sweep in, lifting your warm home boat up and out over you, slowly carrying it adrift, dissecting it stick by stick. No longer yours, perhaps never was. And there you are– exposed, anxious, thrashing for its familiar refuge. Microbes and neurons enveloping you– firing and burning,…

There is all around me this infinite grey, hovering slightly above and ever so gently around the barren branches of winter. I lose myself in its embrace, its morning swaddling of all the things. The frozen soil, contentedly fallow. The purple finch with its frosted set of raspberry wings. A fallen fraser fir, awaiting its…

I awoke to find a layer of frosted white. A soft fuzzy coat on December everything. The shiny new metallic of the tin roof. The freshly stained poplar of the picnic table. Coating each blade of grass. Filling the hollowed crevice of every crunchy fallen leaf. I stood at my bedroom door drinking in this…

Please be soft with me, I pleaded into the night, seeking solace in my ancient sisters resting so close above me. Somehow I’d managed to inhabit a home just underneath their warm yellow bodies. So near to me I could stand on my tippy toes and touch their long lustrous tails. I don’t wish to…

Splittin’ oak for this supposed impending snow… I told myself I’d walk back in, get a bit more of the digital work done, yet the cows are bawling this deep, guttural cry into the afternoon… so I sit and listen. The mountainside that will carry Carolina me on into Tennessee, glows in this hazy lemon…

Yesterday I set out in search of something. Nothing specific that could be written into a list or told to a friend on the phone. No, this something was bigger… Like the warmth un-seemingly baked out of a cool morning’s oven. Like the deep swell in my chest that rises and settles when someone holds…