and the crevices of the
held all the memories
reflected through
satellite dishes
onto back screens
of rose coloured petals
that only bloomed
if a child was
brave enough
to climb out of
the valley. And when
that child got her guts
and climbed, Every
flower bloomed
greater than the
first lotus flowers
in the garden of eden.
The petals sang floating
golden string choruses
of a thousand cellos.
The nectar inside was the taste
of a feeling when you touch
fingertips for the first time. And it
happened—the whole world was gifted with new
sense—because a child was brave enough to climb out of a valley.


insomnia pt. ?

i was on the bus

i hardly ever take the bus

i looked up from my book

and out the window

in the corner of my eye

i saw your name


well not Your name

but the same name

you use

and then

like the man in my book

who saw a face in the ocean

i saw your face

in the window

well not Your face

but the shape of your face

reflected and refracted in the light

of the window


and my heart


a visceral, volatile drop

the feeling of a freefall

but in my chest

down to my stomach

and then i knew

it had started

i knew i was fucked



insomnia, cont.

anxiety isolates

the biggest smile

from the bluest eyes


reaching and reaching

falling away from breath

the moment before touch


whispering in my own ear

a troubling warning

of a never existing harm


the scolding mind

the pushing heart

expelling energy

into all the wrong caves

when it should be soaring

over a sounding sea

bk 2017




when you start


in love

it’s so hard

to fall asleep.


the warm light

birthing from my chest

spreading all the way

down to the ends of my toes

is a sunrise

in the middle of the night.


I bury my face

in my pillow


and squirming

in the muchness

of it all.



it’s a whim of wonder,

a feeling I had forgotten


a sense of shame,

for being all consumed.


I lie awake

dreaming of all the things

that might be said

but mostly

I lie awake


because I’ve placed the power

in your eyes

and now you can truly hurt me.

across the ocean


i just want to hear your voice

and those rings

those rings

feel like a snail

through molasses

and even though you


call me back

as quick as drunk man’s ear

hits his pillow

those rings feel longer than a lifetime

because the sound

of your voice

fills my heart

more than a thousand lifetimes could

and when I hear it

I know

you hear me

and I know

I am home


brooklyn 2016