i want to marry you in blue blue,as moon waterin a clay cobalt cupas tendernessand passionin blue seaswith salts and stars on our skinsi want to marry youand when i say marry i mean our lipsto mergeinto a kiss, a vow,an oathand your eyes taking me inand your handsour...
do you remember how we slept naked? you were there a love so beautiful, the one people pray for you brought little beeswax candles on our rooftop as we laid under the stars though the light in our eyes was all we ever needed a radiance of attention attending the...
another summer’s end, another end of a diaryand i still haven’t met youmaybe i’ll light two matchesand throw them in the moon water bowllike my great grand-mother once taught mewill they turn towards each other?maybe i’ll dry my wild rosesas if...
silver,as stillmoon waterin a serene cast iron teapot,as a ringunthought, undreamtclothedfrom the ineffable A little more: For this minimalist poem, I was imagining a couple deeply in love, tucked away somewhere in Iceland, perhaps somewhere in Vik, where one of my...
There is a certain form of intimacy that happens between silk and wool – it’s called a marriage. There are times when one partner stands in a silk bathrobe, restless and pacing towards the other under the wool blanket on the side of the couch, reclined in solid...
