These were taken into summer:a full night of gazing into mirrors,breath, crystallized, a palidromeof seeing.
These are things I wantto take care of: espalieredink, open it’s hands to the sun,mark me like a thumbprint,we are portraits captured in heat.
What do we surrender to?
Snow is born when the earthmust be silent. I pour waterout of the […]

I ask you who you are?-
and then these taupe wingsrustle, curtains of the night
lifting the veil from where silencemust find a voice: wet,
and sticky, throatflower sweet-
slices of clementine chilled,waiting for the mouth’s relief.

Today, no wind.Sails stand stillas the breath in our mouths.
We should be breakingthe rules of haiku, should be parachutesof water
breaking the waves,somewhere dolortakes of her red skirtlet’s it’s ribbons of silk floatelegant, downstream.

I want to bear fruit,but I don’t have the proper nameto call it, don’t have the definitionto explain it’s roundness,for bearing footprints in dust,it’s history bends beneaththe weight of the bodywho wishes for lightness, a voice-What is speaking?What is seeing without touch?You standing behind mein the kitchen while I was pittingcherries, my fingers stainedsanguine red, […]

Want to know what I was thinking?
It’s a secret folded in the breastof the wilderness.
Be brave and reach into salt.Put your ear to the glass,and listen to it’s grey wingsbecome an ink stain-
your heart can bleed like this:
you would be the first Mexican saintto tattoo the air wisely.
They would build a church out of your […]

this is an old poem, in progress…
after ” Lazurus” Anne Carson
Inside the hand, a thousand rings for the years we’ve lived.So they believe.What is preservation? What is the name of God?I don’t know.A Methuselah tree stands in the forest, a child before the name of Christ was spoken.Watch the young man come, and cut […]

for ernesto and his bride
Pure forms of light we’ve seen before birth, we gravitate towards in life.One star on the lapel of the groom,one golden blossom on the veil of the bride.Beneath the sacred archway, these two stand,one dressed in a suit made of pianos,one dressed in a gown made of harps.Words gods whisper in […]

It keeps pushing itselfabove the dirt,this purple wedge,this three petalled skirt,blossoming out,bleeding it’s purple silkinto air, it’s sundial stemsanswer to no one,will not keep secrets, will not be convinced to keep quiet.
On an island set in the napeof a turquoise sea, the grecian goddesssuns herself, she who doesn’t understandwhat it means not to have, doesn’t […]

i like the idea of becoming an ex-patto rebel against the war, you can grow a mustacheand i can get a tattoo that says“make love”

was openas a peach