08222026 (deep end week)

Folding and unfolding

as a mode of finding

something. Bodies like

opposing ends of an

empty sheet.

Where edges meet, grow river,

joy, flower, grid, and grief, 

all pleated slow repeated folds

of silk in silver fingertips. 

Folded in like flour, maybe, 

folded like a dog-ear, maybe, 

folding like a tired spine, 

unfolding like a set of wings. 

Brought into the fold (not without

raw uncertainties), I find me more, 

I open, close, give and keep and

some things crease. 

What happens happens underneath. 

But also, 

paper cranes, 

fortune tellers, 

birthday card, 

mini zine. 

 

02032026 (love well)

i imagine a future where we learn to love well
fully and free, giving taking sharing generously
care that flows fearless unforced unfailingly
when things spiral off course, oriented against the source
imagine love every night like a north star guiding you home
love like shadow and brown tones, tangled in bedsheets
and somewhere a soft beat keeps the air sweet
cresting and falling like how cooling always follows heat
returning again like how hunger cycles with sleep
will you come back like how the shore always meets the sea?
letting ourselves love imperfectly, forgivingly,
well because we've dwelled long enough in violence grit and grief
well because shit's hard enough, loving is its own relief
love like a priority, holding humanity
like breath to chest, ache to rest, touch to flesh
love well cuz what we owe each other is an unpayable debt