The Sun’s Beautiful, But Fuck the Heat

The friend on my wrist ticks on.
The sun's beautiful.
Fuck the heat.
Vibrating from the apex of my skull.
Screaming in my temples.
This is personal.
Water swimming through the one-inch pipes that 
bend it unwillingly into my glass.
Drops sitting on my tastebuds.
A small caterpillar swings on a web.
Some will never leave this place.
I cannot breath.
Traveling north for the fog to roll in again.

Hymn to The Clouds

Standing above you,
I decide that I can jump.
A new trusted stranger holds my shoulders
1, arch… 2, one-thousand… 3, one-thousand… 4,one-thousand
On 5 I must remember
The world looks so small from up here
There’s no way that it’s real
Disorientation and trust are an okay combination
As long as you possess the latter.
5, he makes a fist to signal
One hand up and the other on my shoot
A practice to maybe make sure it is still there
But all I can think of is my words to the clouds
Hello, there
Whisping through my hair, they guide me.
Sometimes to hear the wind you have to stop breathing


Just A Journal Entry

I woke up this morning to the sweet blue light that seeps through my tapestry each morning. I rolled in my bed stretching into the soft corners. Do you ever just wake up and feel grateful? I slept for 10 hours! Thank you, my lovely body. Thoughts of my morning routine play through my mind. Should I shower right now, read, go for a run, or make breakfast. I land on none of those options- write.

I fell asleep to the words of Kite Runner last night. Lately, I have been coming home from work and indulging my mind. I have studied and played ample chess. Been reading both stories and histories of places that I’ve known and not known. It leaves me falling into the night satisfied.