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I'm not, but I look taller. And I'm not blonde anymore because I never actually was. When I see her in pictures I do not recognize her even though I know her so deeply. I know her in patterns and seasons and context that she does not yet. I love her for every reason I… Continue reading A short story
Probably about half is missing– large parts of what makes a person, torn off, bloodied and ragged, or atrophied – what would've otherwise formed, but it was the survival years. Everything is stitched up, the damage contained in real time. It does not look nice, but she was a toddler learning to sew and forgetting… Continue reading My best work
two sad, brown eyes dark and deep and rimmed with memories I do not contain. it's always you I see in them, so I never looked for long, never asked for them anyway, never chose them for myself, until today– I never have to love you, but I have got to learn to love the… Continue reading It’s Hard to See Him
small is the one crafted in unlove pockets filled with empty to contain the fewest needs to earn the air and space that you breathe and take to earn some right to life to offset the creators' regret but your debt only ever grows so pockets filled with empty the one crafted in unlove is… Continue reading It’s Hard to See Her
that you unfurled, like a flower, petals as gentle as life was not. what was knotted, hardened, twisted up tight– is undone, falling about, loose, light, peony rich. that you, delicate, soft, feel like home, after being away awhile. that you are as bloom, now, as you were bud, with us. I hope there's so… Continue reading I hope death healed you
The wind comes sweeping down the plain and certain days continues east, settling into a breeze up among mountains and I breathe it into my lungs, and it catches on my rage. When I remember your secrets you calling God as your expert witness against me. The King, and His Men, and You, against me… Continue reading Oklahoma
The darkest place I've ever been was the center of your love for me. Eventually my eyes adjusted so I could see such white washed walls, tall windows pointing to a steeple pointing to a god who gripped you with a fear you gripped me with, too. I thought I knew more than I did,… Continue reading The stars, a light.
orange on red on sand day-end, a cool breeze arrives, urges the sun to bed, tucks her in under heavy, dark hills shadow boulders shoulder rocks surrounded by vast ripples of the finely crushed: a lineage heat waves sigh and roll over and take the night to dissipate cactus blooms nod stars, thousands, a night… Continue reading A Night Desert
melissa 