we used to write love letters

the mother cradles her infant, a tapered cocoon in the crook of her left arm, from the white blanket, a lick of crow black hair floats up— dark down, feathered fingers towards a distracted frown. she does not look down into the pink rosebud of her daughter’s upturned face, the glinting grey pebbles of her […]

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Measuring the Marigolds

The way I write has changed over the years. So has the venue where the writing has appeared. Also, the moisture content. It has become drier as a result of working in higher education and the mental health field, spending precious, gentle, vibrant language on diplomatic emails and research papers. This has been a steady […]

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