dark dancing the swish-
swash glug-glug to drown

Thursday in the rust belt &
this used to be our favorite

before the fire– now smoke
seeps through the brick

we bottle into our lungs
in an attempt to pacify

our knifebeats, this onset
of strangers, inevitable

hellos & exchange
of bodies


(originally published in Door Is A Jar Magazine, Spring 2020)

“I’m Not Dead, I’m Dormant!”

                                -sign posted by the African Tree Grape
                                 at Phipps Conservatory and Botanical
                                Gardens in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

I love you I love you
or I did it’s not dead
I swear in my heart
there’s our little room
full of dust
your fingerprints
on the window
we’re not dead
but we’re trying
to figure this living-
together shit
and not take
our suitcases
of handwritten cards
Miami Post-Its
and the cats
oh my god the cats
litter the house with
stars we’d sweep
for trash night
on Thursday
with all the puffy
white bags
that sometimes rip
and leave grape
on the sidewalk


(originally published in Eunoia Review, Winter 2020)