000199650012 editPhoto: Barcelona, Spain | 120 film

every corner is a mirror of checkered floors

eyes misguided

skin, searching

for a flat drink to soak up.

spit out.

start over.

and suddenly in a sea of unfamiliar flesh

appears someone wearing the sun

so you strip

shed muscle

bare bone.

stand still.

000199650002 editPhoto: Port Angeles, WA | 120 film

to bathe in your own sun


shift weight

to the heels

of the sea

77860014 editPhoto: Seattle, WA | 120 film

undone [in III acts]

this is not a tragedy

your side of the bed is busy

tying knots. the rope, cotton. the kind

of knots that harbor strung out hearts.

the kind of hearts you eat to survive.

there’s room enough in this bed

to wrestle a lioness

between the brass hoops and Sunday’s socks

i swoon

we are not conventional

i. tender

i. ringmaster

you. unknown matter


so i sing louder.

do not use this rope where life, limb, or

personal safety are involved.

do not use this rope to weave dreams.

try instead a synthetic variety.

one that holds up to the weather.

no changes in weight despite the load

bearing in mind that a single thread

left to its own devices

would have sufficed. if only life, limb, and

personal safety were not involved.

you’re frayed

i’m knot.

000038160007 editPhoto: Datça, Türkiye | LomoChrome Purple 120 film

yüz yıl içinde

yüz yüze geldiğimizde

yüzeyden dibe

tekrar yüzelim mi?

68160036Photo: PNW Coast | 35mm film

you be the girl with ginger lemon tea and i’ll be the boy with a poem in his back pocket

jean-stained, though i wear none.

we’ll hug like childhood friends, like discarded copies of ourselves

playing pretend

stop. ocean foam is sputtering the moon’s secrets.

are you listening? shit. my mouth was uncorked when the wind blew,

now your name will crackle with each bite. rose.