If I could come back to life as an animal, I would be a
If I could come back to life as a plant, I would be a
If I could have lunch with any historical or current person, it would be
I could best describe my personality as
Favorite Music Genre
Favorite Movie Genre
Favorite Book Genre
My two top VIA Character strengths are
|Board Name||Title||MYKU||Date Written|
|Permission||Allowances||These silences that surround the fingers
itching with language are conversations
held suspended in air, between you and
an affirmation. A brief and envied light.
|Morning Love||Covers||This is your song, of 300 counts and right sides
of shifting fabrics and passions like hurricanes.
And this too is a conclusion foregone
in sleeping diagonally and potholes.
|The Ghetto is getting wider||Hooded||There were generations of us
before gentrification started issuing glances askance off of porches. Now there is only talk of flight, of them and the others, of opinions sporting blinders as they mobilize upward.
|Fog||Blurry||In mornings the valley clothes itself in grey,
conceals its swells in mist, creates lies from houses,
Refreshes mysteries in the dawn. When light disrobes it, roads are less real than the retreating fog, the sky too naked.
|an Homage to Women||homage and honor||we seem close to the earth,
because we curve like her, all arcs, breasts,
cradled arms countering their rays running headlong, always out.
We remember home, and the way back there.
|What now?||And Now||There are rules to momentum. Mostly they
are that we continue to move over blood, stories,
and grass, constantly compelled to grow, regardless of
the rightness of this moment or how empty we are in its absence.
|Forgive me less, forget me not||Points and moratoriums.||These wrongs indelible scars
on tips of tongues, burn hot in memory,
blur all but blame, the moment fingers
unfurled and focused on you.