you forget yourself

I often forget who I am because she is ash in the ground and I am here among the living dead like the sorcerer’s apprentice sweeping drowning sweeping under the couch and under the dresser out of sight and out of mind until it builds and churns and builds and – And then the night…

a little lesson

the first time i saw maria i thought it was a dream she came downstairs in a long green dress and gave me a tangerine i was 6 years old and already loved to read the first time i saw steven i thought i was in love he held my hand when i got in…

An American in Paris

Today marks a year to the day that I first arrived in Paris. I was to spend a year there as an au pair for a lovely family of four, a mom and dad and two little girls, Eugenie and Heloise. I spent the first week terribly homesick and literally sick with a throat infection….

Per aspera ad astra

Your touch soft and slow Like the sparkling dew on the grass In the early morning glowYour smile assured disarming and proudThe ice cream melts as the sun goes downBlood orange cream swirls in the cloudsYou’re humming the sweetest purest sound Your presence both here and gone An unexplored part of a map That I’ll…

Blood Orange

Anger festersLike your stomachSlowly turning to rockFrustration lingersLike a thing you once knewBut now forgot Simplicity can be sweetLike the honey on your tongueYour thoughts were once so lostA song that was left unsung  You could dye your hair blood orangeOr even return to FranceSometimes something drastic Is your only chance And you turn the other…