This morning, my son
has a conversation
with the sun.
He - a round baby human
behind cloth and cold window.
She - a golden flame
behind blue earth and snow.
He sings and coos,
while she in her brilliance,
peek-a boos.
-
I want you to be free someone who is heard and seen a child who is free. I want you to feel to move through every emotion witnessing your...
-
In my denim skirt, floral blouse and old olive-green flats, I sit beside Scott in a small glass bank office. We are applying for our first... -
I am the introvert hostess hiding inside her bathroom. G uests arrive to my writings on the wall, to platters of awkward tension and to ...
No comments:
Post a Comment