there’s an uneasiness in the air. an in between of seasons changing. a prolonging of broken things breaking.

breaking in between is almost never easy and there is no “right” way through…

I love an ellipses. In the way I often use it, the ellipses is less about indicating an omission, and more about leaving room for words, or an experience, still in formation and transition. I also use ellipses as an invitation for us to write together; for us to feel and fill in the blankness of space…

There are moments in life captured through the lens of grief. Moments I wish I could shake the feeling of, not because I don’t want to remember, but because the memory still causes ripples. Ripples that make shock waves go through the body as if the moment is happening all over again.

When we first arrive to this world we are without verbal language. We communicate through expression and sound and we learn our environment through sensation.

one day we’ll know that earth and family isn’t an add on accessory but a part of life’s fabric and weaving, without it we fall apart, without it we are not whole…

how do i know a lie is a lie, and the truth is true? and what of it when the lie is coming from the voice inside?

or, at least, the inside voice outside gave me…

“Note to self: Write deeper. (also to self: don’t act like you don’t know what this means.)” I thought I knew what it meant but I didn’t know until just a few minutes before I began laying these words down on the page. I began laying the words down shortly after hearing a voice in between the folds of sleep and awake.

The voice said, “You have to name the feeling”.

I originally shared this piece/peace on March 8, 2024 also known as International Women’s Day, in the u.s., and also Judy’s (Mom/Iya) birthday. I come back to this piece often.

Today, “Mother’s Day” 2026, I am grappling with what words I share out into a world because this day carries so much weight – joy, and grief, celebration, and heartache…

This morning, a car drove down the block and I overheard the crooning voice of erykah badu, “I’ll call you back”, and my heart dropped down into my breath…

Feeling is a gift that I sometimes want to return. Lately I find myself cursing feeling, and then taking the curses back. My cursing is really because of the hideousness of all this “greatness”…

If you battled, fought and grew this last year in ways you are still processing, still reconciling, still unraveling, still cannot put into words, and if the growth is still in progress (and lets be real, growth is always in progress) I hope these words meet you…

ultimately it is the water that invites me. these bodies that require me to find breath differently and keep breathing steadily.

i have welcomed, mostly stubbornly, these bodies. allowing them to carry me.

i sit at the feet of their waterbeds and say, “teach me." and i am gifted new language. […]

“In the forefront of our move toward change, there is only poetry to hint at possibility made real. Our poems formulate the implications of ourselves, what we feel within and dare make real…” Audre Lorde, Poetry Is Not A Luxury

I have always been deeply concerned with love. When I started writing more about love, I felt for some time that, in the way of subject matters, it was a frivolous pursuit. I understand now this feeling was more of a reflection of the way in which paradigms of love, and what we are taught about love, are narrow and finite.

I am fascinated by how words, which may have the same meaning, may also have a different affect. While one word might engage, charm or invite, another may alienate, dissuade, or deter. I believe that how we take in and feel a word/s is often based on a kind of history we have with them, how they have been used with us, for us, towards us or even against us.