little brother,
keep dancing
little brother,
breathe
Tag Archives: poet
On Maturing
my wrath
drains crimson
down the bath
They Say Some Behaviors Are Learned
I have learned to be glad
for the things I’ll
never understand
Fuchsia: A Poem
what pain looks like
but only to those
who allow themselves to feel it
Mystery Girls: A Poem
Whispering birds,
frail and sunken-eyed
Bloom: A Poem
What about
when the heart knocks back?
Kindred: A Sequence of Dreams
queen bee venom
courses through
my tiny veins
Stinging
desert sun assaults us
in undulating flares
On Missing My Father (Whom I Only Met Once)
‘Caring makes me feel un-American,
and honey, there’s something wrong with that…’
Notice a Pattern
Yes, there are dark corners
to cling to
