100 / paisley

The little leaf is paisley-shaped now, different from its brethren. Halfway through growing, a stem got in the way. It grew around it. It took its share of water from the roots, and grew around it. The plant itself doesn’t notice the difference anymore. Maybe, maybe in those moments of stalled blossom, the one little leaf felt like the weakest link, but not now. Now … Continue reading 100 / paisley

jan 6

Sometime in the dark of early morning, I shook a fluffy blanket out and made tiny lightning. I spread my arms wide and parachuted a miniature sky of spark and star. I forget that static electricity looks the way it looks. Most days, it’s an invisible thing, a small jaw snapping at my ankles across a carpeted ocean. But in the right light– or, without … Continue reading jan 6

cauliflower seashells

On the coast, the fog crashes through like kaiju, disappearing trees and buildings with a single blow. The dense and guttural cries inspire my joints to take their place in the chorus, creaking and groaning, too. My body, my city, is a monster movie before the destruction, during the destruction, after the destruction. We call the after the rebuilding, and the before the good ol … Continue reading cauliflower seashells