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  • Poetry > Haiku
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    You loved wastefully. You bled me dry, and I think my heart went bankrupt....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I live in a sepia tones. Sometimes I think I was painted in dust, born of drought— my thoughts are all in shades of brown that look the same from every angle, and I wonder if I was ever part of the color world. The rest of the world sped by me in a mess of rich sunsets— all pink ch...
  • Poetry > Haiku
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    I am always caught between dreams and the taste of your name on my lips....
  • Poetry > Haiku
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    My body is lost To a permanent winter. This cold is bone deep, And my eyes, my eyes They are frozen, frostbitten, Remembering spring. I am ice-kissed, born Where December never ends And angels shiver, So call me glacial. Your words were always colder Than this avalanche....
  • Poetry > Haiku
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    darling, i keep time by your heartbeat (you were my sweetest symphony)...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    When I die, I want them to say I went supernova. I want them to say that I went free-falling out of their reach, that I burned too brightly— self destructed and faded to black in the space of my own personal solar flare. I hope they call me catastrophic. When the pathologist slices my...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    My father has eyes like a hurricane, layers of thunder and constant rain that mask a rocky bottom. He used to tell me stories of oceans seas of storm-tossed waves where people lurked beneath the cool surface; their songs buried somewhere beneath coarse sands. Woven stories of sea dragons ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I think over the years I have stepped on too many sidewalk cracks And maybe, if I had been just a little more careful - a little more conscious of where my clumsy feet were falling - there would not be so many cracks in my mother. But I am the forever ungrateful child breaking bo...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Her hand is on the door, encased in cherry red gloves and little diamond rings. A fragile ruby mouth opens and she tosses the words over her shoulder and into an empty room: “You can call me if it ever gets too bad. It’s just two years, but I’m still only a phone call away.” Her t...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    We are discovering the final pages of our love story; balanced on the razor-blade edge of words unspoken, and if my careless feet should stumble, I only wish you would resurrect me in your memory as someone worth remembering. When you think of me, I hope I am just a little bit more of...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    It’s been five years, and I can’t remember the exact color of your eyes or the softness of your hands, but I’ve never forgotten the way your face lit up when you talked about autumn. I don’t remember the words to your favorite song or the sound of your laughter, but after all this ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    The summer I was eight years old, my sister found a pack of sparklers hidden in the garden shed slim sticks, black and cobwebbed, that had lain dormant, forgotten behind a rusted red tricycle, We coveted fire, smuggled the sparklers behind my pillow, until the night was ready to be set...
  • Nonfiction > All Nonfiction
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    We are sitting in the hum of a tired sewing machine, and I am watching my mother's hands – watching the shifting of thin fabrics, the needle captured between two callused fingers, as she pulls the fragile stitches tighter. I am studying scars, the reminders of rip...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Sometimes, when the world is asleep and the night is warm, I go looking for the outline of Andromeda. They call her the chained maiden in the stories when they bother to tell them— the sacrifice and the sea monster, princess and the chains. The waves sing, call her back to the water, ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I stand at the gates of my Grandfather’s garden listening as a voice that’s faint with memory and rough with years of stale tobacco smoke and the Georgia Mountains he so long ago left in his dust colors the new spring air. I can almost see Cotton smiling, brushing back white hair, his ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    step one: when You arrive, walk in the shadows. leave Your footprints as warnings, and wait for the night. when the time comes, take them. never let them see Your face. step two: peel off their names like old price stickers and label them defective. teach them submission until even t...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    icarus rises in the morning, wings furled, footsteps soft on the hot concrete. arms folded neatly, i watch him from behind the window. he is weightless, almost airborne as he scales our fences with easy grace. he laughs, leaps higher still, and my fingernails carve raw red crescents...
  • Video > Poetry Readings

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