~ Heart: porous honeycomb whose multitudes of caverns I mistook for emptiness. Heart-- whose beat I likened to the pulsate of a...

~ The fireflies live on through my poetry, wings curled around strands of dialogue in quotation. "Watch how they dart about the pines in...

~ I've grown to love the sound of my name swaddled in the contour of my cupid's bow; rolling off the tides of my tongue; humming like...

The storm decapitated the few tulip heads that were brave enough to blossom this April. Tulips are not like the other flowers-- they...

~ Atlantis shall rise again. She will spear through the currents, until the helms of her cityscapes cleave the tides that have entombed...

~ You say the rain is beautiful, yet you judge me for crying. ~ If I went to school with you, chances are you've probably seen me cry...

~ I pin the anemic bodies of poems to the bed of palm like they are cadavers waiting to be d i s s e c t e d. This is the only...