These fertile scraps are a hodgepodge of miscellany.

What does it mean to nest a girl so deep inside a pond? To put her there & leave her, so that she might be found again? She reaches, this cast - stone being, with long slender arms. She gathers the minnows to her, but they are independent creatures. She sits & she waits & there is green within her hair - Slick patina - For this is what age looks like, in a pond. After I found the girl, I often went to see her, sometimes leaning so far over the pond that my face was floating there beside...

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Fueled by cheap whiskey & dark regrets.

Using all of the energy of their tiny hearts to stay afloat, looking out with their iridescent eyes. I was singing Disney tunes when the truth hit me like whiplash. I'll apologize if my snub stings. But you've painted glowworms in my eyes & the glitter spanning my nose feels like a mockery. The flames danced in the air as one person slid it on the table to the next, & the vanilla fragrance in the air, comforting me like the aroma of baking bread.This time baby, I'll be bulletproof. The...

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Don't worry ladies, we're still gentlemen under these fierce skins.

With your pearl hands & porcelain arms, thoughts ajar, poised to cajole the night not to black out the ambience of pinks & tangerines that tease the glass frames of my sliding doors, you'd step out to where there should be a veranda to meet on - but your feet would kiss only empty space. It’s still tempting now to leave the curtains open & hoard the dying shafts of halcyon sun setting syrupy, but bright clouds fade ; & our careful blades of silver, wrought to shred cold logic...

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I was only a girl of sixteen, but you were a boy of eleven.

It was spring & the garden beds in my front garden were bursting to life. I remember, I was embarrassed that you saw me in my school uniform that day. I was collecting letters from the mail box in the evening & you must have seen me. I dropped my letters on the side walk & you bent down & gathered them up for me. My heart froze & I remember I could see the reflection of my flowers in your eyes as you handed them back to me. Maybe you were coming back. I told him I was searching...

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I wipe my nose with the back of my hand.

I think about how real you are & I wonder if you cry tears or something much more beautiful. I think about how if you look long enough, you can see the ugliness in beautiful things. I think about the stupid things that only make sense while they're happening; like inside jokes, like the ridiculous events in my dreams, like how loving you seemed like an okay idea at the time. I consider saying, "I think about how my dad disappointed me again." How I made sure the way I said goodnight to him was...

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Pigeons had dropped their letters in the winter sky.

The other children said he had crazy eyes & made fun of how his mother dressed him & refused to understand why he liked strange colors & would not play with his toys. They misread his language & thought he conjured demons in the quiet glade where no birds sang. But the boy only shrugged & smiled quietly to himself at their puzzles. You see, he knew the gift of imperfection, its fierce magic & how to catch beauty & turn bad luck into an omen. They could not get used...

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He traced their faces with tiny delicate fingers.

Looking back now, I see the gray skies. I see what I left & why I left it behind. I've heard it all before ; to take your days one step at a time, not to jump ahead & never plan your life. I'll pull you under & drag you back.Suffocate you in my so called love, crush your believes & hold you down. I thought that blissful death was upon me, but instead, I’m treading in an endless s...

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