a poem i think i make shelter inside of myself for people who are building family homes in someone else’s sunrise. i am just the summer home. i think i am pubic hair shamed and stretch marks glorified. i think i hate all of this. every inch of this. every word. every wasted…

a prose when the flame was small, i nursed it. fed it the secrets from in between my thighs. i wasn’t eager to hold on to them anyway. they had always made my thighs burn in a way my slit’s slickness could never cool. then i gave it my forearms…

a prose i thought i loved you in september. i believed this way into december. i embraced the frost like it was a warm bath. i did so as a testament of my love for you. i hoped you loved me back in may. you said you liked the way…

a poem today i did not want you. i did not wake up and search for the scent of you on my sheets. i did not read old messages looking for clues as to where your affection has run off to. i stopped counting your half-truths; i no longer wish to make…

a prose i found lust in a sundress. the dress was yellow and made from the type of fabric that feels like nothing on your skin. i let my hands roam underneath to compare it to her skin. let each finger savor the softness of her world. while my hands…