the final flood

I am here for another birth metastasizing darkness the way afternoon sun treats the day to riches I suppose death lies for us all somewhere between our pillow and a dream in the moment when breath escapes the inevitable frangipani storm // the sawing sea I must go in for the fog is rising pressing … Continue reading the final flood →

like winter trees

(There are) many stories which are not on paper, they are written in the bodies and minds of women. (Amrita Pritam) like winter trees: wick bare & bearing weight of wind. slick silver sticks tick & thicken year on year bent for benediction... just so we’ve stood as gazelles under gaze of lions revering & … Continue reading like winter trees →