Cali

Slow swaying palm trees–rugged rocks ashore– cliches washed up on the dense fog of memory– I’m skipping around humming the outdated song by Katy Perry, California Girls, which we’d blast and sing to at 13. Ah–many moments of fleeting teenagedom, of drive-through Sonic runs and post-pool walks to the movie theatre, were to the soundtrack … More Cali

Bittersweet

  It’s a bittersweet day. Exhaustion’s hitting me in waves. At work I wrote stream-of-consciousness poems in my yellow fineapple notebook. I wrote about the way the sunlight filtered in, the way I let our presence expand, the way the green fabric folded, how I held onto time and just listened. There wasn’t much to … More Bittersweet

City

The city is tired, the city is alive. The city is moving; the city lies still. Stop motion. Slow motion. When the light turns green I cross anyway, counting down the milliseconds, swiveling my sight in circles. The city, from far away, sparkles and sprinkles and glitters and glows. Juxtapositions sit at every street corner. … More City

Reverie

There is no fine line between loneliness and solitude, only a clunky, black-Sharpie-esque streak that delineates both. Even though there are many nights I wonder if I know how to be alone, now is one fine, humid afternoon where I seek solitude. For now, I will pretend that I am the only one here surrounded … More Reverie

Stardust

Reminder to self: we’re all a part of a giant shared collective experience mired in good and evil and love and fear and desire and emptiness and peace and calamity. (We are all made of stardust.)