Sunday and Vidalia Onions

Every Sunday, before she prayed, My mother peeled three Vidalia onions For dinner, chopping them into pretty White teeth. I curled beneath...

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MOOD

she fears the dark as it consumes her slowly and then all at once trapping her in its never ending quest to seize her mind and bury her...

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When We’re Dead

How long until I forget the sound of your voice- the sunlight seeping in through your bedroom window, you telling me you’d rather talk in...

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Black Swan

I dance darkness madness insanity and fright devour calm the still the quiet the nice dread grins stoned eyes lake of lies awake while...

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Conform

I’m talking but no one is listening. Words pour out of my mouth Real words, actual words, fully formed assertive words But no one is...

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I Covered All The Mirrors

You describe the day as “beautiful” While shielding your eyes From the sun. I can’t help but wonder If all those times you called me...

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On Anons

What is a man? —immortal thing blooming legs in his rood cutout wood, her sweet cawtree limb combing the cool cucumber strands of breeze...

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Letters I Wrote to Muriel Rukeyser During My Title IX Investigation

“Speak to me. / Take my hand. / What are you now? / I will tell you all. / I will conceal nothing.”   When I was three I broke my...

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