Don't ever let them hate on your body for it is a striking mosaic of bones a relic of desire, peppered with nostalgia- wiggling hips like a dog bounding from the riverbed. Your belly button is deep and soft a likeness to a shellfish- your skin is fuzzy and uncharted and your fungus white… Continue reading Body-
Under photos of Zaragoza and them her hands grind Moroccan tea the girl- with her fences built high belly button pierced, her face smelling of honey and green tea. She believes in energy and angels in sweet lavender and Eucalyptus but not in you. She’s been to Cambodia and back in her head- a pilgrimage… Continue reading Remembering.
I often wonder if our existence is a mistake rising, falling left with little room to make art: tangled puppets in unforgiving scenes others, the arbitrator of our contentment. Peel back the film and there is a depth of kindness scarcely imagined: the sentiment of cassette tapes and flickers of tomorrow in the… Continue reading Existence.