New Poem Over at The Curator Magazine!

the lankiest one, voice on the verge of collecting crushes, is making himself up as he goes, a danger my dad’s admonitions cannot prepare him for; will justify the conflation of boy to body. Real Enough is real enough.

Belonging

I don’t think there is anyone who doesn’t want to belong to something or somebody.  Not ownership belong to but be a part of belong to. Even me.  I say even me because I’m a natural, albeit ironic, loner.  Ironic because I’m a twin and we make two of five sisters.  Ironic still because there [...]

For my Nieces and Nephews

Fearful love means sometimes I worry over you because I love you so much (yeah, resulting in that goofy glossy-eyed look--just play along like y'all do). If you know that, then you know that there are no shady hucksters, no mistake you could ever make, no single thing on this side of the river Jordan that could make you any less than loved in my eyes and should not make you any less in your own.