Embroidery you have seen too few sunrises to have already unlearned innate skills of life — too young to step

I'm transported 60 years in the length of a heartbeat with the opening chords & I remember us, coupled at Empire State in the good old days

My Heart is Not a Toy Last winter, you eased and mended my trepidation, broken heart, like a broken toy secluded

Nicotine Kiss Grey lips and rosy lips sailing alongside as ships against the tempestuous waves of the ocean.

Interface The layman wakes up in the morning and doesn’t worry about striving for anything but a coffee.

Canopy Album And for all of us there are trees.

Moonbeams illuminate the cedar wood floors of the tiny antique shop, The only source of light in the darkest hour of the night

BELOVED My beloved eyes glare as the morning sun; Her eyes infused with shrewd thoughts; They haunt, I should strenuously run

Elveden lightdrops:

Sparrow Passer domesticus tricolored trilling Lake Erie's eastern shore

this poem is not for bengalis living in assam.

Meditation is synesthesia, aerate to the brain.

If I had wanted to care for a child I would’ve taken better care of myself.

Do not kill the spider, I say. It has to die, you say, as you crush it with tissue paper like it’s nothing more than a smudge of sauce

Haiwezi Kufikiwa My pockets rattle with shilingi bob, change from the kibanda where I bought fresh mango juice and chapati.

I'd Kiss Your Friendship on the Mouth There were nights we sang so loud grief couldn’t hit our bones- our faces masqueraded by dancing fir

This Country Was a Genocide

Surviving the Midwest You are not supposed to be here. This frosted plain is uninhabitable for all but the practical the stoic the strong.

Little White Flowers In My Backyard on October 1st

I’m Angry, and I Never Know What to Do About That