Deep crimson stretches wide Brewing a warrior,  each  mark Each  stride,  builds on the last And its joy rattles the whole army, Rippling out so far, you can feel it out past the atmosphere: That, my girl, that is the power of your mind, your body.

The Return

The sharp scent of chlorine winds its way to my nostril. It’s not a gentle greeting, nothing here is. No. But, I know this choreography well the scent is my first eight counts I slide in between the lane markers and push off a little jerky at first, then before long my swag is back: … More The Return

Not Today

I see through your game of pretense; the game of tag that has no end. I see through you time, even when you slam minutes into the crown of my head—a hammer to a nail: pound, pound, pound I see through you fear, even when you drag me to the edge of the cliff and … More Not Today


Her words And hers And hers… They are a cage, always reminding me of what’s not there. My words And mine And mine And ours… They are a map: black and white instructions on how to escape, how to flip my sights from empty to full, how to live my life… Instead of hers and … More Script

Sharp Lens

I nod politely, my eyes shift towards the green street sign a hundred feet away the table chatter about potty training and sleepless nights and FaceTime calls and zombie days from disrupted sleep of motherhood dial down into white noise And Sacramento Street comes to focus, floats towards me through the thick air, drenching me … More Sharp Lens