Poetry
displaced yearning
there is a longing within me
for something that is not there
Versions of Myself at a Party
One of me sways to music, stays smiling
Reaches my arms up to fractured ceilings
Poem to a Blocked Contact
I wish you knew what I was up to.
good enough ii
two cultured,
my mind cluttered,
i struggle,
attempt to juggle.
Матрёшка
There are twenty-one of me
inside of me
One for each year of life
on this Earth
Good When We Die
You are not carried downstream by a river
But the ocean rocks you back and forth
The Root of My Mother
My mother was born with a green ribbon wrapped around her left thumb