spinning
She spin dark brown clay, forming body and mind into soul She spin her child…
Read Morei am more than the words i speak or write. more than what you see.…
Read MoreI want to tell you a story about a short stout woman who lived on…
Read Morei am unfurled unwrapped by life’s hardships, joys and mysteries. without understanding why, i have…
Read Morei’ve decided that i don’t want to write, not with my hands anyway. i want…
Read Morei am the stream… of consciousness. it is 2:38pm, monday, the In The Beginning day…
Read Morei will save words for you. bottled and pickled words for you. then feed you…
Read MoreI had a satchel filled with poems that I tossed into the sea. I wrote…
Read MoreThe words spill from my pen, blood red, no longer wanting to be ink, but…
Read MoreThe words leave, drifting atop my misconceptions. I am looking backwards. Why did we come…
Read MoreIn the space of memory resides the fence we stand atop, teetering on the edge…
Read MoreThe silken network of threads thin inside me; those webs that stick to everything that…
Read Morei am split apart, opened wide like the Nile and equally as filled with memories…
Read MoreThe Spring 2017 issue of Goddard College’s peer-reviewed literary journal, The Pitkin Review, has arrived…
Read MoreI have an edible lover. We intertwine, this lover and I. We meld and spill…
Read MoreStrong, sturdy hips receive hungry thrusts. Authentic sex is not for the weak. Fainting hearts…
Read MoreIf one day you desire to find me, don’t look for me here. Search for…
Read MoreThe clouds interlace fingers seeking prayer, an impassioned supplication to the un-gods. They spread across…
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