Her eyes inherit the lush of Asheville’s forest, Imbibe the depth of seven great lakes, And I am lost in them. Her heart offers solace to...

How to really like where you are With a flip flop tummy And burning hands Dried crunchy arms How to really like where you are  When you...

This body has become a tool of revenge, a weapon pointed towards itself. I write intimidation letters, leaving them around the house— in...

I notice paths that exist already, drawn by humans or by nature. Sometimes both. I see how they cross and overlap. What about forging a...

Born at a time when therapy was more a phenomenon of the future than the present Frida Khalo, like many before and after used the canvas...

you were so empty you opened your legs to monsters dressed as men swallowed spoonfuls of salt they called sugar questioned whether it was...

I eat three Belgian chocolates for breakfast and the clock has not struck 9 am. I can’t delay gratification because the future is never...

A body is a body A tree is a tree For a flower and bee sex is sex but what is sex to me? Standing before the mirror I recognise that if...

On July 11, 2023, Milan Kundera died in Paris. I was halfway through his novel Immortality, when I received the news of his passing. It...

When she first moved to Berlin Her new apartment was a hollow barrel Not one piece of furniture stood She bought a grand piano before a...

He lives in his off white finca in Southern Ibiza. When he comes home at night he drinks three glasses of pinot blanc and plays reggae...

Breakdown and breakthrough. They sound so similar. The root is the same, but the movement is in two different & opposite directions. And...