Pink and blue swirl into a Buddha on a black background
The elder teachers do not know how to speak to the trans child
She, so young, is leading the way
Good friend sleeping down the hall
He tugged on my license
Palm fronds peeking
A small mustard lamp in the shape of a figure-eight
Secondhand aspirations
A tick has gorged itself on Hanna
Too bloated to waddle across the rug
I cradle it in toilet paper, drown it in a small jar of isopropyl alcohol
A rare moment without mercy
At the city green space they charged us $8 to park
Still we walked the green paths, desperate for them
Outsideness is relative
Rattlesnake territory
Tired and sad
Sick of working
I want my healing to matter too
I am trying to hear myself instead of always telling me I'm wrong
We are talking more and more often now, have you noticed?
I miss so much
I am tired of balls; I am tired of courts
Nine more days til rest
Come on June you can do it
I'm sorry I didn't text you back
So many cobwebs in need of dusting
