Bird and Bear

Bird and bear fell together in the month of May,
when the air was heavy and hung off our shoulders.
The bird was young and soft and fey,

born north of south of Virginias red clay,
drawn to the strong and the solid like boulders.
The bird kissed the bear in the …

A Letter to Someone Who Doesn't Exist

I want you to kidnap me.
I want you to throw me into the ocean.
I want you to tap on my ribs like piano keys.
I want you to dance.
I want you to write me letters.
I want you to throw rocks at my window.
I want you to adore my frailty.
I want you to grab me by …

Loved Things

My heart is the color of brown paper bags,
the cherry blossoms on my arm and the bird made of many small lines.
My heart is well-worn cowboy boots,
non-electric typewriters
(their wholly imperfect letters).
My heart is the first dogwoods and the last …