{daybreak march.09}

{framed july.08}

photograph 8'' x 10''

that winter i fell into girls like relief & nicotine. i turned myself inside out looking for more to give while i pinned victory vertebre to sunken walls above blue ribbons and souvenirs. i knew all my sounds but forgot my cues & exits in the rush.
strung out between iron and ice i spun the bottle, fingers crossed for spring.

{chrysanthemum october.08}

chrysanthemum
the first words you learned barely
dribbled from your tongue
now you’re pushing off against the
setting of the sun
i won’t let you loose after all the
banners i have hung
chrysanthemum,
hold on chrysanthemum

i pressed your freckles in my palms as you
cascaded across the tides, and i,
I undid the masts that
tore you all too wide and i,
i painted your lips
with the winter’s hum,
chrysanthemum
i'll follow you,
chrysanthemum

{r.c june.08}

ink, watercolour 11'' x 15''

{hansel & gretel july.08}

ink, 14'' x 17''

{i feel it most in the sun may.08}

my mother spread her shoulder blades along fault lines and fossils before heading east and heading out. daughter of avocado-tinted contradictions she followed hollow-engine wrists over alphabet cities and garden skylines. my mother folded cardboard castles in nostalgia's stony backyard before strapping on tradition for travesty.
sometimes I feel her wanderlust waxing warnings between bones and sun-tight skin but. it's not a need for change just another excuse wrecking myself under the pretense of knowing better next time. I hold on to space after I know it's dangerous and I still gravel-down-gravitate to places I know can hurt me but like her, I just want to keep looking.

happy holidays y'all

{it is the worst thing in my mind december.06}
ink on business card (stock), 3.5'' x 2''

{let's make it old news april.08}

{when i was seventeen i wanted to shout the things i knew for sure november.07}

when i was seventeen i wanted to shout the things i knew for sure:

ink, 11'' x 14''

two years have passed but barely anything's changed.

{i can speak for myself april.08}

now I remember how little
heat you radiate
when you’re silent
and you’ve lost your shape

just like everything else