a locust in winter

she gave birth to new thoughts
under the restless northern lights,

each shift of shape and color
spelling the names of other places
and affirmations.


she moves

climbs from peak to peak
to follow the moon across the sky.

she hides fallen stars
and promises
in silver sleigh bells
and plants them in the snow

thinking
something might come of this
in the spring.


she moves

daringly

tiptoe-ing across tightropes
pulled tensely between treetops
in pursuit of the magpie
with citrine eyes.


the scent of morning
falls on four-leaf clovers

and
she moves

beyond herself
to return to her self

with new thoughts.

no.7 from displaced

lying in the light of christmas

somewhere in between
home and place

i squint to see
the constellations wrap the fir
and wait for shooting stars
to carry me back to myself

when i didn't offer gifts
to closed hands
turned backs
deaf ears

when i moved like a woman
spoke like a woman
thought like a woman

before i lost myself to you
and you also

just briefly
but long enough

so i reach for the next branch
and search the surface of old ornaments
to find a reflection of myself

press it against my chest
beneath a new wall made of eggshells
and thin ice

and move forward
only

toward a new light.

7:52 am

i woke up inside my head
this morning

a beautiful nightmare

full of doubt and delusion

but i floated inside
and shoved each letter of thought
through small vents in my skin

i caught them with my tongue
and spoke them into small jars
that i hid underneath my bed


a bittersweet lullaby.

auspicious for a girl

reeling through an endless fall,
she touches the sky
and two worlds collide.

every drop of flame
lights a candle
in memory of the one
who lived inside her skin.

the fire dies on its own
leaving her to herself
but not exactly alone.

the moon is hers

but stars turn to dust
and leave no trace
of grace

just a shadow on the sun.



the fragile waves of days
break against the shore
and it's nobody's fault
but her own.

she's not lost
just wandering.

and she knows today might be
the most perfect day she's ever seen.



pale as a pile of bones
she speaks his name out loud
and wonders when he will bring the rain back
to her.

she thinks,
if the best is for the best
then the best is unkind.



she waits until morning
to wake him

and sings:

dos gardenias para tí
con ellas quiero decir:
te quiero, te adoro, mi vida.
ponle toda tu atención
porque son tu corazón y el mío.