Your every step can’t help but grind riots of inquiry into the dusty dirt.
Revelations through summer camp, mu shu vegetables, and cheap sunglasses.
I’m talking directly to the tiny little you who lives inside of you.
Infinity wants nothing so much as to fit its limitless rampant vastness into the littlest of spaces.
There is an oceanic pain-knowing, a tide no soul should ever be made to swim against.
This hunger is what is meant to keep our hearts beating.
A band of liars and thieves sing a song of desire and atonement.
Skipping this writers conference made me feel guilty enough to write a poem.
Let others bask in the surety of sunlight. You were born of the moonlight tribe.
