Sometimes I post pretty things...

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5/100 My cheek to your pillowy cheek, your ear that is as small as an apple leaf, and I thought “she must have felt it too,” this ache to consume the moment so fully — my grandmother holding my father — his soft skin to her l
8 pics in honor of 8 months of Stevie 💕 Never ever want to forget how she just wants to be standing always and gives silly side eye and literally throws tantrums when I take away dangerous objects and loves strawberries and long baths and says &ld
4/100 Even the too-long lavender — that I forgot to trim before the spell of winter’s breath — still smells sweet and soft, as if she is remembering summer and the heat of the yellow moon and exhaling her story to me, to share. Fi
3/100 I will never recover myself from the soft and searching wonder — the splendor — of my child’s hands. #100poems2021
The truck stopped on the side of the road. The truck stopped on the side of the country road, the long, quiet road. The truck stopped and a man stepped out. Faded white or dirty cream with a stripe down the side. What color was the stripe? Maroon. Wh
Our past lives, we wear them, fixed to us, ineffably. Like our gait or our grin, we cannot see that our left hip sinks and our eyes become pebbles beneath the water; glinting, wet, where our light flickers through the many skins, the layers cloud