I started writing a long fiction piece in 2021 and thought I had lost the entire thing but miraculously my laptop which is beyond fucked...

She holds her longing like a stream of song, her melody a body torn over long-worn borders of the right and the wrong. Crouched deep in...

Oh, gentle ceasefire: my resigned acceptance lies like sheet-ice on lava. Rose petals hang heavy on the cool surface, perfumed, putrid...

Until recently, I have always told myself that I am not an angry person. I have told myself I hate feeling anger because it’s a useless,...

In an article I once read titled ‘Doty, Deleuze, and "Distance": The Stevens Intertext’ David Jarraway compares how Mark Doty (1953 –...

Scrub me down to the bone Nothing but splinters Nothing but fragments Of the girl scared to think scared to dream The battlements in her...

Back in 2020 I published this article on what it is like to live with a disabled brother. It is strange reading it again three years...

Nestled here in the nape of your neck, I gulp your escaping scent: Bruised cranberry, crushed cherry, bonfire, sweat. To stay here, to...

Language is a holder and art, a harness. I transmogrify the heaviness of my longing into the lightness of craft, suspending the essence...

To leave something untouched, unspoken. Is this judgement driven by a fear, a logic- calculation? No action (or rather, inaction) seems...

Removed

So, this was it, the great undoing, the tugging of the threads that had been so finely sewn. All this patchwork beingness, all this...

The only way to describe A mother not for you Is a cosmological headfuck A field of sunflowers, Immeasurable differences. As is nature,...

“Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror. Just keep going. No feeling is final.” – Rilke. When I recently went through a break up...