Dirty
In the end we’re only dirt.
o, winter
winter tucks us under his blanket again
A Fireside Winter
The snowflakes danced in the chilled breeze
Farewell Nineteen
1. she no longer exists, existing not in her past self.
Bleeding Heart Dove
bipedal fools bare candied crimson
Seirenes Secrets
my god, won’t you swallow me whole?
Fairy of the Stairwell
Dear Fairy, Are you lonely?
Citrus
There is sourness in the winter canned citrus.
Dreams on fire
If my younger self could see me now
Admiration for your craft
My bubbled inner thoughts that loftily pop at your errant evocation
Overture to the Composer
Those days, the darkness of a cello; aftermath of a downpour.
Butterscotch
Butterscotch sticks to the passenger seat
Lavender Daydream
Lavender wafts like a burst of flame,
blood of the convent
life’s first leg of forgiveness is best reared in siblinghood.
to (our) arms
a snowy flesh blanket
our nature
anything is as plausible
Paper cranes crumple
My good feelings cave in to your absence.
Keeping in touch, impossibly
There’s a place in the clouds, where when it rains,
salt
is it better to speak or to die?
Celery
sugar-coated longing.
meditation
i dream for the same reason i breathe & i dream for the sake of feeling
self portrait as
the bread dough stuck to my fingers
A Paragraph for Autumn
it’s flooding my head.
kerberos’ lament
the sun stretches towards the east my love,
ignition
we gathered up some words and piled on the couch:
Mom used to say
the most obvious thing
An Aerial View
One night, I waved over the dark figure, who glided
out of context ad
for sale: phone charger
when i tell my mother i love her
vita says this letter is / a squeal of pain.
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outlander zine 