My mother texts twelve times a day I have grown accustomed to texting her twelve times a day and today she has not text me once. I worry...

On colder days, I dream of sitting on the shoulder of a hill with Mary Oliver drinking a Capri-Sun. Blackcurrant. I'd ask her so many...

Morning kisses you on the forehead wide-eyed and wet with renewal and again, the sun winks batters her red lashes and paints you pink and...

THE FALL WAS HER RISE (retelling of The Fall from Eve’s perspective, only in this version, Eve’s awareness of injustice catalyses her...

my eyes   wider      than         when I fell asleep   I dreamt    I was beautiful  no cloth skin to iron with fingertips or gums to suck...

Summer sits at the back of my throat like a cough drop deliquescing Spit soaked, she kisses my molars and I will taste her well into...

Much of my writing concerns the inequalities women experience, and if this sentence alone discourages you from pursuing reading my work,...

upon the cliff, i verge on the brink of both excellence and insanity death and divinity with every possibility laid out before me the...

there are rope marks on my wrists, fat-bubbled flesh an orion’s belt of satin scars from sorry slips wrinkles like creased cloth at the...

(after, ‘A parental expose’) Somewhere between ripe and rotting, I will love me again Wear my flesh like rind and reclaim my sweetness I...