She has no shadow when she walks The light just shines right through her She has no substance Only thoughts A walking memory She treads...

Ebony is my best friend She is dark matter - closer to me than the space that borders my skin, knows my touch more intimately than any...

He turns his face indiscernible in the light his gruff visage haloed - rusted charcoal hue He is old. Furrowed and gruesome - you know...

Dancers in the frostlight skin in the dewshed twirl in the mist gooseflesh and sharp nail - lip curve red Howlers in the boughshade fur...

Bloated with unease floating untethered in a void neither day or night dark or bright; blurred and greasy unreal doom-sense ink-bloom...

Hand me my portion of the day and tell me “Use it wisely” I am beset with the anxiety of a blank page Take my brief moment and let it...

A poem about isolation and losing connections

Sigh with me Fill your lungs And breathe your truth Lay with me Hold my hand And communicate Through silence Your state of Being and Sigh...