Rivers of carnelian

I can’t recall a time that I flowed so seamlessly through my wounds. Looking in the mirror, I find the edges and pull my breath to leap my chest with longing. I tried to tear apart the frame and unravel the roots as if it was that easy to destroy divinity. These racked ribs carry …

changeable homes

Do you think we like this. Folding backwards, forward and out to make the ends meet. When the morning comes and shrinks us into our clothes, and coffee cups. The silence bridges our conversations and music pulls us from our pores into the afternoon, closer, almost touching freedom. Maybe we live on the inside, in …