Pomegranate seeds, red little fish eyes,
as startling as menarche.
April 2024
I Seek Healing in the Usual Places (and other poems)
I can conserve words as I once warmed
crystals, a single flake upon the valley
of my tongue
Sonnet that Only Exists in the Tropics (and other poems)
It’s organic he says fleeing into swamp culture/
leaving behind the years of espresso and Roquefort/