Monthly Archives: April 2017

The incalculable beauty of this world has a death grip on my heart. The world itself, however, is infinite light years away from ever reaching perfection. It never will. There is hatred roaming our streets, and raging war, and blood shed by the innocent behind locked doors. There are human beings suffering in silence, evenContinue reading “Fallacies”

Such blatant tragedy, the ease of which love is misunderstood, drifting apathetically from tongues salivating pink with blasphemy love– the beauty of it disrespected, defiled, redefined by everything it will never be. love– mistaken for how far one can slip an eager hand past the hem of a skirt, for the gasping flutter escaping theContinue reading “Love Defiled”

Change, metamorphosis, transfiguration. I have always trembled, clenching teeth and locking jaw– what which threatens permanence what which haunts stability. And if Time embodies all change, then I fear Time herself, for she is the only measurable gust of wind reckless enough to damage what appeared so indestructible moments before its ruin. Time, her cruelContinue reading “Chrysalis”

I. packed suitcase, farewell sleeping suburbs we know well two week adventure II. plane to Italy all asleep, except for two Atlantic dreamers. III. Rome, home of chaos heavy-eyed Americans wandering her streets. IV. Vatican City and in those golden arches I see God, smiling. V. Assisi’s mountains blue, holy, our favorite stone castle lover.Continue reading “haikus in memory of a European summer”

I do not mind the pale comfortable silence building a home within the dim moonlight of our static telephone calls. Romance is often a quiet thing, a worldless state of being, love– a pin dropping. A dove taking flight, lacking disturbance, unnoticed ascension. As our dulled minds absorb every fragmented detail of today, every colorContinue reading “Winding Down”

I. when you are still a bug-eyed, sticky-fingered believer of everything, I will teach you words. I will let your tiny cushioned index finger trace the darkened letters of poetry you will not understand for years to come, for now just shapes and sounds and the rustle of your baby hands always turning the nextContinue reading “To the dreamer that will one day be my daughter”

Today, I squeezed your hand as we peered down from splintered railings, the murky water of the Potomac cascading down jagged rocks beneath our feet. An average of 7 people die here each year, a sign read. I remember laughing maniacally at this, a stifled funeral giggle. I wondered how it went about, how franticContinue reading “Chasing Waterfalls”

We kiss and I feel nothing. For the first time today, the absence of chaos is evident in the stillborn silence my blood makes along its course through the tunnels of my veins. Hush. I understand stillness now, the taunts of muffled voices in my brain– tranquilized, not even a word of hatred remaining toContinue reading “Tranquility”

a canyon for a dimple, right cheek only, accompanied by sandy freckles scattered across the nose bridge appearing only in late August. hands– smaller than mine, smooth, marble hands of an artist– fingerprints etching colors into the air while he speaks of his visions, always too grand to be described. he describes them anyway. cinematic,Continue reading “Portrait of Anthony”

I. noses bitten pink by frost, midnight snowfall through opaque glass, steaming breath on my cheek, mitten hands intertwined as our hearts burn. slow. you bring the warmth to winter. II. crimson poppies in the spring, barefoot dancing under April downpouring, streets lined with creamy dogwood and canvas shoes. the sun is out. she lovesContinue reading “Seasons of You”