these texts are an archive of my life in the San Francisco Bay Area from march 2007 - march 2015. it stands as a record of close to a decade of my life, charting the struggles i faced as an artist, daughter, and lover. messy and chaotic at times, eloquent and poetic at others, these texts are an index i am proud of. it was here in this electric box that i learned how to be honest about my experiences and the person i needed to become. it was here that i first learned the truism that words make the world and how to trust such a beautiful, rife, hard fact.

thank you for meeting me here in such tall grass.

my artist website is here.

Aug 20, 2010

draft #2


it wasn't good enough.

or maybe it was just forgotten.

the white that folds down.

the envelope. the ceiling.
the wide eyelet curtains.


degrees accumulate.
sometimes rescind
like a promise.

sand in the sheets.


she lays under the big windows. there are two of them.
two windows in the same wall. a diptych. perpendicular
to the south sky. the light is good. the light falls
down. open mouths. warm as breath. and soft. she lays
on the floor. the curtains do not sway- she trembles,
lights a cigarette, and quietly closes the door.


i know sea glass was once nothing more than regular glass.
still, i want to be polished just the same.


on the other side of the windows are stars.
blue marks in the sky big as fists.

she stands close to the door.
she listens for feet.


we've hated each other for as long as i can remember.


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