it has been thirteen years pressing leaves and petals here ( Read more... )

After over a decade of writing here, I don't want to stop, but I have fallen away. This secret treasure. Like holding my breath, diving under, swimming amidst dazzling sea life, the clearest water, crepuscular light pouring through. In the middle of it all, I have got to continue to find ways to give my soul light, to let myself be nourished.

No one will have prepared you for this ( Read more... )

I thought that his grief would be softer, gentler, a flower unfolding, but this boy's closed heart hurts like a sunburn and he won't let me touch it; I get marked as target. He writes a list while yelling at 3am so he can remember why to break up come morning.

Collage, from November ( Read more... )

'Remember when I used to make you happy?' I am slipping stuck, me, this terrible flopping partner a curdle in crisis. What to say? I'm sorry. Everything, everything is slipping through your hands. And here I lay wanting. It isn't much, my thistles no love spur. Days ago I take 200 sheets of food service film and tuck the edges tightly around small ( Read more... )

"That which could hunger, could starve." - Octavia Butler

fathers ( Read more... )

Ai-Jen Poo (Director of National Domestic Workers Alliance, at the Grassroots Fundraising Conference) says ( Read more... )

a stranger says to me ( Read more... )