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reflection
the sky superimposed on glass is sepia stretchedin wavesand Iknow as the clouds commune itwill no longerexist, still Ireach my fingerstowards theillusion, calling itback to crate me as gentle dew collectsin the cracks ofmy palms
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flock
another poem from my chapbook, published through the lovely Bottlecap Press! available here: all of the light of all of our selves, all at once flockbarelegs onthe backporch beforesnow, a generousflock of birdssings in a keysugar-sweet tothe toucha clapping ofwings thatsweeps the saltfrom the sky–your handsform a bowlto collect thegifts as theycascade butthey meltat the verysight…
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a glance
a fence made of cloth and mesh/ a face leaving youth to birds/ yes the perennialslost fruit but the stems still yearn/a roof dusted in snow touchingearth with a gutter kinked enough to be human/ a walking stafffashioned as a pole or perch /lines parallel to breath to flutteredwings to kissing /death at a glance…
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lux
stalled stuck park in luxwouldn’t shift, I gave into the voidflashed lights and laughedshut off wrapped skin in rainis it used up? has it run dry?forward always up I try, I’m tryingbut stasis is a ring, once trappedyou sink, you at the base atthe center you at the endsI fray, I gleam
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oranges
a poem from my chapbook — published by the wonderful Bottlecap Press, available here: all of the light of all of our selves, all at once oranges I wonder what it sounds like behind glass how the voice can vibrate and shrink listen aswe drink the snow &our cells enmesh all the while peelingoranges at your feet
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hearth
the shadows play houseand vibrate in rasps as a scatter of clunks and plastic rustle, still I taste the crisp-apple air from strange rain on my tongue, as paper-patio lights whistle through water like a lens, a hearth, a ruse– I can see it now the fire in your heartgrowing legs
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unknowns
evergreen trees danceand wave belowthe ladyfinger-likebranches of the unknownsreaching so far into thewhite-blanket canopyvibrating as spindles you saw me staring outthe window andgrabbed your drillto add more screwsto anchor the pergolato keep it grounded as particulate dropletsalmost invisibleshifted to soft tangiblesnow and yes, my arms grow newunknowns, belowthe wrist a stonea brush strokeon the elbow…
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different variations of the same theme
if I squint my eyes, I can see a light snow on the morning of new years eve. if I close them, I see us in cars at night. you’re wearing a black carhartt jacket, cigarettes in the velcro pocket, driving a ten-year-old Ford pickup truck. I’m in the passenger seat, counting each city we…
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translucence
sky translucence, the autumnal leaves’delicate dance as hypnotic as the steady lull and humof dawn rearing its head as a constant, I see thedelusions eating away at your body, your hairwith silk silver on raven black locks, your laughterbetween breaths and chattering, my ownattempts at understanding a soul so voracious for lightit cannot contain it,…
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offerings
tumult in the way severed branches press against glass. the scratch greets your body, as it jolts and wanes in dreams. we hover in a kitchen, banishing the cracks in linoleum to the corners that escape light. we pour black coffee down our throats. you read Wilde as I read C. D. Wright. I see…