Morning. Hot tears singe. How many times have I been told to stop crying? It’s not good for the soul, they’d hiss. Fools. Now I want to drown them in these tears. Blazing lava, abundant. Nevermind. I’m lost in your love yet I find neither you nor me. I wonder – the shape of yourContinue reading “Him”
"May my body be for what it was intended: an expression of Your grace. And what small ways I make with this poetry – what songs and friendships I form, what migrations and ripples I disturb in the world – may they have something of Your signature on them"
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