Grief

A shell, her home so brutally shattered — maroons a tender soul adrift in open water. Cold. Afraid. And self-protection makes an unwilling warrior. A noble mother. Sword unsheathed. And broken hearts make an unyielding will. She battles sorrow and joy and birth and death, all that is vital. Captures all of them, (save the…

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Permissions of Breath

What happens to the heart when the walls come closing in? When the thunder makes one hide amidst the shadows? Just breathe. Give yourself permission to just…simply…breathe.

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I Was Born Aboard the Titanic

I was born aboard the Titanic many years ago. The ship that “even God himself cannot sink” according to its builders. What Man has pieced together, let nothing put it under – the cold North Seas.

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Orion Is A Mother

Orion will teach me the answers to questions I ask through chattering teeth. Diffused along the smoky veil of my condensed breath, diluted among the ragged inhale of subsiding sobs. Barefoot under the thin shadow of a moonlit dogwood tree I endure the sharp winter air. My small body squatted, legs tucked inside my pound…

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