Tag Archives: personal

reflections on surgery

I moved through the spring of my junior year as if in whiplash, neck and head shot forward, limp in the hands of the jolt, surfacing slowly through this pause and stale light. I haven’t always felt this mute and … Continue reading

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evenings from my bathtub

And from the gutted ivory I birthed an immense quiet. In the lateness, the walls and the tiles stretching, sinking into a greater configuration. There were the hollows beneath my tongue, caverns deeper than moons, than the ends of god. … Continue reading

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Nostalgia

Memories as milk-light, as dissolving sugar, right eye bruised. Being young, I feel that my years are divided into halves where, in the first half, I become aware of something about life or myself and am left to understand/cope with … Continue reading

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