I usually keep my life hidden,
choosing for the most wayward of...

Sound waves flash their tongues of steel,
operating off of signals...

I don't know when I started to
hunch over, but now it's all I do...

You are not a crystal ball, I am not a seeker
so I must stop wanting to be appeased...

Holidays were
always coarse...

We plant flowers in our chests
and bloom epiphanies...

Some things are too personal for poetry,
so I'll speak vaguely...

I shower at the darkest hour,
processing grief from old memories...

We were restless that
summer, tracking new...

I almost want to cry,
in relief, in acceptance...

She's still in a dream-like trance,
after all these years. Trauma is a...

Cloisters of powdered memories -
your promise to meet me on the moon...