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Wandering Soul

By : April 24, 2021 Comments Off
I have a wandering soul. Or merely a single breath of soul that comes and goes. Winds whisk it away like a wish flower’s whispers. She taught me love is not solitary or safe, that we are all in danger all the time anyway so why not dive in headfirst. We said our souls were tangled like loose threads, and I almost started to believe. Years later I say “Whisk me away again” to the open blinds dripping with blurred night sky. So the universe let me walk beside men who taught me not to keep my fingers crossed so tight, and people caught between threads and sheets and wishes just like me. And I found myself again. And again. Even when I didn’t think I was lost at all—there
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The Songwriter

By : April 10, 2021 Comments Off
“Is it me?” I ask, leaning my head on her shoulder. The music is loud in the other room, but here, on a couch forgotten by the party, I’m able to ask what I’ve been waiting to ask. “Is what you?” she asks, putting her head on top of mine. Her hair is soft, like someone put feathers on top of my head. The couch beneath me is broken. A metal beam pokes up from under me like an unwanted guest. I shift, but the metal beam persists. “The girl you wrote that song about, it’s me, isn’t it?” She’s quiet for a long time and I wait. I listen to the music flowing into the room, the bass deep as the ocean. For a moment I’m lost in the
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Purple

By : April 10, 2021 Comments Off
The blues come and go like summer showers. They roll down my nose and into the tissue below. And the reds fade in and out. Girls with cheeks burning like embers stick around only when I’m at my lowest. People love to see me burn, but purple—when fire and frigid combine—it’s permanent. Mom was hot and cold at once. She wore a purple apron every day. Years later I feel her presence by the stove and I know I always will.
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Sunset Secret

By : March 10, 2021 Comments Off
My sun sets inside, tangerine clouds smile with white teeth. The sun, pink  tongue at its peak. Orange galaxy reflected on the creek. Don’t ask me to take down a piece. The word love  is not a good enough  camera. Someone asks if I love them, the person waiting for me by the waves. But this kind of feeling can’t be named.
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Lightning Strike

By : February 14, 2021 Comments Off
“I’m gonna fall in love with you so fast,” she said, her eyes locked on mine. I could feel her heartbeat against my own. She was wrong, she never fell. I did.  It didn’t come quick and sudden like the movies say. No lightning-strike-epiphany of love. It crept up on me like old age. One day you can see, the next day you’re squinting at road signs. One day you wake up and getting out of bed doesn’t feel as easy. The entire world feels off, but it’s not the world on a tilt, it’s you.  A lighting strike did come. When she left. When she took everything that was hers except her mostly empty bottle of shampoo. The shampoo smelled like lavender. The kind that eases your weary thoughts.
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Tightrope

By : February 7, 2021 Comments Off
She loved me because I walked a tightrope. Always quaking on tipping tiptoes, ignoring the crowd below until she climbed up. I said get me down from here. Silver scissors sparkled. Her face was the last thing I saw as I  plummeted Down.
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