You let the yellow glow from eye sockets. The building up the street is burning faster and faster.
My grandmother asked, “Does it feel like being widowed?”
you know that baby swallows make silver ripples in wild rivers to court reeds?
Every so often, they add a tattoo in honor of some long-forgotten love.
Millions of Americans have been affected by identity theft. It’s probably the greenhouse gases.
my friends’ fathers are dropping I mean dying like flies
The sin is existing.
There is so little left of the tomato plants.
He has stories that I am not in anymore. It’s healed this way.
Okay, picture this: We’re in an elevator. The elevator shuts down. It doesn’t matter where we’re going, only that we’re alone.
I would always rather be happy than dignified. Rather held than held in awe.
Long after midnight, we’re talking about our first time
it’s touch-and-go with me and weddings
and then her eyes fully opened — blazed through with strands of mud
Just starlight and some small scribbling across vinyl.
If America is Babylon / and you are an exile / newly arrived among pagans / Catholic, ‘Ngolan, Black, woman / you already know how to pray
In my universe, my arm carries a heart and flowers, my back a misguided quote
my love is a glass shard, a knife made of madness and moonlight, and there are already way too many fragments in this house
I want to roll in this moment until I become its vocabulary until I smell like the bones until I am its echo…
Live the rest of your life from one worst case to another.