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There's Something There...

say it was in the stars,

something supernatural led me to you.

say it was the moon

pulling my tides closer to you.


it’s something deeper

than a mere connection.

it’s something in the waiting

& it grows with our knowing.


you can’t put your finger on it.

there’s something there.

some call it ‘love’

but it digs in so much further.


it’s in our details...

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loverslove poetry

In Solidarity

He looks to the left, a quick pause to check the commotion. 
There’s shouting crying out on the street. Stomping boots, 
signs in hand. It’s another day, another protest, nothing to 
worry over. She questions him, “What’s happening?” It 
could be anything or nothing at all. They want attention 
and this is the day they chose to be seen. 

“You should go, I know I would if I could.” She embr...

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Have You Noticed

Have You Noticed?
after Mary Oliver

have you noticed how certain poems linger 
in the echoes of yesterday 

how certain triggers replay
a certain phrase

how hanging onto words
engulfs an empty room

how walking through fields
begets velvet moonlit nights listening to you

how spinning a record after dropping a needle
births a mountain of longing and sorrow 

have you ever notic...

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Don’t Walk In Anger

I twist in the night, in anger.

I wake in the morning, in anger.

I know the dreams are just dreams 

but the aching is tangible, 

it’s at the forefront that I can’t shake.

It’s too early to feel this way, with holes punctured through the heart. 

A feeling that I’ve been used as target practice.

Congratulations, you’ve won…

You’ve robbed me yet again from waking with the deli...

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You're So Sentimental

he says as it relates 
to a date 
of another first 
we’ve had. 

It reminds me of things 
I shouldn’t hold onto. 

It shouldn’t matter 
when I first noticed 
the way light hits his beard, 
or how his colors blend 
as in a Monet, 
only that I see them. 

It shouldn’t matter 
when those butterflies first flew 
from our insides; 
only that they fly every time. 

It shouldn’t matte...

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Who Has Your Tongue

I mull over the quietness,
the licking of thoughts
collected and trapped inside,
blocking airwaves.

Only things that escape
are the redirects,
anything to take the focus
off of what can’t be seen.

They’ll have to perform surgery
to get this out of me.

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It Can Be Wonderful and Terrible, But It Always Tickles the Right Spot

The way grey hits the wooly fibers across his chin,

like individual spikes of a wheel

poking in multiple directions,

with fusing colors like a Monet.


I graze my fingers through the fibers

like walking through cornfields 

with long and mysterious paths that

lead to depths I long to uncover.


He rests his hands upon his cheek,

pondering his next move

then strok...

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Speak for the Trees

tears fall from the tips of leaves, 
no longer heaving but finally at peace, 
no longer a place for relief, 
no longer bending to the constant breeze, 
no longer kept afloat meandering rivers, 
no longer subject to raging fires, 
no longer a victim to defeat. 

tides no longer pulling at the heart, 
stars no longer hovering above, 
no longer tormented to be part of the world 
that casts...

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treesautumnchangesforestmoving onfall

Coastal Wanderers

in the blaze of the summer heat, drips

of sweat rippled down our smooth skin backs.


we set out for adventure along the Pacific coast,

the four of us squeezed in a compact sedan.


sisters laughing, shouting, nowhere else to be.

engaging winding hair-pin turns, honking,


speeding, and slamming on the brakes

as the afternoon sun scorched the town.


we reveled ...

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californiacoastfamilymemoriesPacific Oceanroad tripsisterswanderers

A bump in the night...

the voice comes to me 
as a phantom in a dream. 

as i write 
the voice channels 
from him to me. 

laughter vanishes 
to staring at the sea, 
to the house 
that no longer carries 
his childhood dreams. 

vacanies searching for occupation 
from passing through stations 
to platforms holding onto memories, 
all of it comes to me. 

in my internal screenplay, 
is he the playwright...

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Sheltered in Place

they will never know the stillness, 

the silence, as the world hushes

when the first snowflakes drop out of the sky.


they will never feel the crisp air

or see white blanket the fields

as it does every year.


kept indoors,

safe and warm,

where humidity breathes,

where mist showers from above,

and crawling critters burrow,

where life continues.



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Summer Love Swept Away

summer days filled 
with dragonfly dreams 

our love, like beach vacationers 
passing by 

deep in the night 

we'll remember 
what summer love has done 

in this jaded seaside town 
after the blazing sun has gone down 
nothing remains but tumultuous sea sounds 

like a discarded napkin 
left by a shattered dish, 
love was swept away with the rubbish

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summersummer love

You Never Knew

you think you know a guy 

years, months, weeks, 

day in and day out 

conversations exchanged

how things were left unsaid

how we chose or chose not to be


how we hide behind the way we speak

how we say or don’t say

the things we mean


you think you know a guy

and suddenly he’s a stranger

you never knew his thoughts,

never knew the things he’s done,


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communicationhiding wordssecrets

The Season of Changes

Every Autumn fills
with browns and reds,
yellows and oranges;

Sweeping leaves
and a steady wind
blowing through trees.

Halloween decorations,
candy corn, and costume trials
as little ones prepare

for changes in the air.
Days lead up to celebrating
another trip around the sun,

yet this season is another reminder
of all those years ago
when we lost you.

Years collect dust ri...

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Tears of a Poet

When I think of Carlos, 
a beautiful soul of a man, 
emotional, heartfelt poetry bleeds through 
Tears creep on the brink of every reading 
His hand held over his heart to keep it in 
He makes a mark wherever he goes 
The rhythm of his words flow 
And it leaves you speechless 
All you can mouth is ‘wow…’ 

Pondering over poems to capture what I believe in 
A work of art always in progre...

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it’s been three days 
with clear blue skies 

every morning 
i stand in disbelief; 

there’s nothing to obstruct the view 
nothing to prevent the light from coming through 

so why do i feel at unease? 
because even now, the skies are just a tease

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Sudden Attack

The heart stops,
stomach drops,
and fear attacks
tearing and scraping the insides.
Stepping back, it’s not the right time.
It’s too delicate; my hands are tied.

I stall. I ruminate. I do all the things not to destroy this.
I dread that I will, gravely… to the point of not moving.
This is what it’s like when people become a ghost.
It’s too much to go forward.
So, I turn
in the opposite...

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anxietymental healthmental illness

The Arrival

the approval has been granted, 
the lift of the travel ban, 
the ticket longed for is now in hand 

three days scheduled 
in glorious summer heat 
with a lover’s heart in waiting 

greeted at the airport 
a loving embrace 
and staring deep into each other’s face 
before a long evening at an outdoor cafe 

between smiles exchanged 
we smooth out spaces 
between places that haven’t 

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The Gift and the Curse

What I thought I had lost,

a love that would never return,

now fulfills distant dreams-

an unanticipated ecstasy.


But while caught in the midst of it,

how is it that I still think of you?

The one who got so close but still so far away,

the one who buried me deep,

with a voice on repeat,

I can’t seem to make that voice,

or those words, go away.


How is it t...

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in your city

Originally published in Clay Literary’s RAVEN:

eyes squeeze shut all at once with 
wishes whispered under breaths to be 
anywhere else, anywhere cooler than 

the constant heatwave of near 100 degrees. 
Toes dip into makeshift sandy beaches 
along the city’s river while children 

play in water fountains next to erected sand...

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city lifedreamsheatwavesloverssummer

One More Moondance, My Love

Originally published in Clay Literary’s RAVEN:

A cool October evening presented itself in front of us, 
the full moon in the sky hovered above, and the tension 
between us lent itself to lyrics that resonated to every 

following Autumn. ‘Can I just have one more Moondance 
with you, my love?’ you sang as we walked arm in arm. I...

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Amongst the Shadows

Fields of gold stretch far and wide
Hues of orange speckled with pinks and yellows
Underneath an open sky

You live here in the light
While I place shades upon the bridge of my nose
To block the blinding light
And live amongst the shadows

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in your flood

one step out the door
one step forward
one step closer
to the flood

one step backward
one step in reverse
one step away
from drowning

a punch to the gut
and tears streaming,
more than the smiles
more than the ‘i love you’s

and how many more years like this
how much can i take like this

i agreed to ever after
but this now, these lows
i can do without
i barely survive the cr...

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this is not my own

rip out my insides,

pull out the intestines

from the gut punches bruised,

the heart that heaves

and beats rapidly for thee,

the mind that overthinks

and runs ceaselessly over everything,

pull it all out,

it does nothing for me,

it only runs for you.


my hands were made to hold only you

my arms were made to embrace you

my legs were made to wrap around you


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I wish it didn't sting

I wish it didn’t sting

when rejection tears apart 

what I’ve poured my heart into, 

hidden emotions or fragments thereof 

painting scenes that tiptoe quietly 

or outright screams. 


I wish it didn’t sting

when he doesn’t think much of me,

but rather holds a love 

kept at a distance that silently breaks 

both of us apart.


I wish it didn’t sting

when corr...

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the loudest sound

vibrations reverberating
emitting from within and all around,

complementary yet opposing
reaching higher into the stratosphere,

returning one by one
striking through bone & marrow

which ones do I block out?
which ones do I hold onto?
which ones do I let fall to the ground?

I pick one up in my hand,
hold it close to my ear
as a shell echoes the sea
& let it whisper all its truth...

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Rising Waters

soft rolling waves 
brushing the shoreline 
come hurling. warmth

that used to make 
your blood boil makes you 
recoil deeper 

from all that you 
have felt and long to 
feel. digging deep

into the sand 
to push it away, 
you recoil 

into yourself. 
this was not part of 
the plan; moving

to the city 
to be part of the 
scene, only to

find you’re constantly 

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timepieces have reversed (part 1)

sprouting from the underground,

reaching for the light,

messengers of truth 

tell us the news 


spoken dreams 

awaken us now, 

emboldened by our own worth, 

timepieces have reversed 


our covert existence,

like buried keepsakes 

begged for air,

pained to be bare 


our struggles,

spotlight moments in

Hollywood movies; as we weep, 

the only wa...

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Call It What It Is

Heatwaves radiating across the country,

common occurrences every summer

now occurring every season.


Summer stretches long into Fall,

makes a cameo during Winter

And begins earlier every Spring.


It’s a heatwave, they say.

No, it’s global warming.

No, it’s now called climate change, haven’t you heard?

No, that’s all fake news.

It’s only a heatwave, you see.


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global warmingheatwavestruthfake newsclimate change

We've Never Had Water Here Anyway

As originally published with Clay Literary's Raven:


‘Neath the blistering heat, California poppies cast

themselves to the hillside sun as wayward children


start to lose their breath, as you now fight for yours,

running to chase the summer blues away.


The young and old all begin to fail; heatwaves

take the lun...

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breathingclimate changecovid-19deathglobal warmingheatwavelungsfire

sing to me

sing me a song at every chance,

with every glance

capture me with your smile,

make the lyrics repeat in my head,

let your tone send shivers through me,

and when I hear the first notes,

let that song send me back to you.

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Where does it hurt?

It’s a walking numbness, a dull pain  
that sometimes presents itself in waves. 
It slowly builds, and one day, every few weeks it explodes. 
I can’t bring myself out of bed. 
The rolling tears subside for a moment only to build again and again. 
The world outside, and the family inside, doesn’t exist, only what’s happening right here. 
Only this pillow, only this blanket, only the thoughts ...

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depressionmental healthmental illness

the process of becoming

peel back the layers when 
you shared the process to the end result, 
you let me in and i mistook the meaning 
of a subtle sign that you let me in to a sacred space, 
seeing what makes you tick. 

a subtle hand holding 
but my dizzy head was lost in lust. 
what else could i trust, but we became 
kindred spirits longing, connecting, becoming. 

walk me back through your streets, your hid...

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no return address

sew my eyes shut
tape my mouth closed
board me up in a box
& send me off

attach the postage
drop me off
at the post
don’t open

until i see you there
and i hear you say ‘my love’
and i feel you
next to my warm skin

until then, leave me here

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your hands, your kiss

your hands, your kiss

I have been held and kissed before

but nothing like this


what is it about your hands, your kiss

that makes me believe

that nothing compares to this


I could see into others’ eyes

I could hold someone else’s hands

but I don’t feel their soul like you feel mine


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a dessert you fancy

i started to question the connection

& couldn’t breathe


images mix up in a daydream

that replay constantly 


sometimes a new image appears

did someone change the videotape?


these images and connections aren’t only in my head

but i fear this is only gravy,

a topping or an extra side 

or just a dessert you fancy


it must be deeper

than remembering


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to belong here

irritating tears-

         a hardening 

before a sense of



breaking down waves of



a window

to the heart & soul of: 


trying, sorting,

feeling, fighting,


unchartered spaces

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the lull of the storm

the pitter-patter of droplets upon my windowpane 
tap relentlessly 
blowing left & right 
remind me of the storm we once created 
now settled deep into my mind 

oh, to get swept up in your storm 
the intensity of your words 
the passion brewing & spilling over 
the constant wind whipping & striking 
before the longest lull 

most nights i now sit and wait 
for your storm 
to consume...

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bound by the same thread

Pick up a needle, 
a red piece of thread,  
eye the eye of the needle 
slowly push it through 

Tie a knot at one end 
to make sure it knows where to stop 
push the needle through the fabric 
pull and tug at its end 

In & out, and around again 
stitch after stitch 
just enough to tie the fabric together 
just enough so nothing else gets through 

Our fabric 
threaded together, 

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North Star

Shining brighter than the moon 

Shining brighter than the sun

The north star in my sky

Directing me through every night


You paint colors in my mind,

Perfect nights of you and I

We were made for this

We were made for the night sky

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abandoned sea of flames

My stomach starts to churn, 
it’s been a while since I’ve heard from you 
and your letter burns 
with an aching that quickly forms swells 
in the corner of my eye; 
I know this feeling all too well. 

My hand reaches for the source 
of the pounding, yet I question myself: 
Why did I stop this river from flowing? 
Responses form that would never greet 
your ears, and never leave my lips....

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building tomorrows

distant memories of 

what we no longer are

as our former lives are out the door

how do we move on

and build a passage to tomorrow

when i look up to the skies

and only have the stars

to remind me

the best moments 

are our yesterdays

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Out of the dark corners

Out of the dark corners, 

images of another time 

creep into the forefront 

of my mind.


Images of you and I

mix with the scenery.

Our bodies entwine 

in front of me.


Shining down, 

or seeping in,

blurring the focus 

of what actually broke us.


Layering conversations

our wanting to be held close,

I jump into the frame and breathe us in.



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a convenient state 
a safe distance 
    far away 
    kept cool 
yet close enough 
    to keep warm 
only in touch by one method: 
    a dream 
revived to a slow pulse 
   by whispered words: 
     “It’s all real, just believe. 
         Stay with me.”

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doubles the crime

of a doubled life

just like the last time

I held you


I have you

but I don’t

I love you

but I don’t

I search for what I’m missing

in between our intense kissing


Stimulating conversations

beautiful words that lift me up

impassioned exchanges

stories with deeper meaning

culture, music, political issues

let’s excha...

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c h o k i n g . . . 

on unfathomable words

      only a hint 

            of something 



it's not enough, I deserve 

more than this


there's been something

|between the lines|

as we watch 








it's not enough, I deserve 

more than this



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I am 


     to be seen
            or heard

clinging to    

             t h o u g h t s . . . 

of you, us

trying to separate

the pieces 

that have been glued 

for too long




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A keen eye's woe

A misplaced comma, 

an extra apostrophe,

page numbers missing;

a million little things to fix


that ought not to

take away the aura

of the piece but make me

stop and scream


How reckless

to leave the reader in such a mess

when they should only

focus on the very best

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Deconstruction Site

How many times do we take the leap
Before we realize we’ve jumped in too deep

How many times do we stop to realize 
We need to protect our insides 

How many times does this heart have to break
This love, you too shall take

He was the one,
Healing the deepest scar, 
The wound he created,
Only to tear it open again
As he twists the knife 
Churning everything inside of me

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Chasing Sunsets

Chasing sunsets,

The ones that shine brightest

Only to disappear

And return again

But never in the same light

Never seen the same way

These eyes tell me, don’t look away

Before it too is gone too soon

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