Eyes darting to timex affixed to wrist said There is somewhere else I’d rather be. Eyes darting to texts scrawled across wrist say There is someone else I’d rather be with.
When the wind blows from the south it inflates my fertile exclamation marks into multi-coloured bubble letters that leap across my grade eight binder. When the wind draws from the south it warps my anorexic exclamation marks into blue ink question marks that tattoo the palms of my hands. – do you remember […]
Moments in photos are plucked and polished and presented but moments told by walnut burl knobs on fingers turned to channels of moments not captured by a backlit square revealing only shades of truth tell the story of moments that made us. – my hands are story tellers
Our mantra finish what you start is rooted in the way we revere those who came before us. Those who walked over land by day and by night until the days totalled hundreds. Because everything we know today hinges on the resolve they embraced to finish what you start. We say finish what you start […]
When I was 10 I noticed bodies shifting to edge shoulders just enough to swallow gaps otherwise large enough to invite Her participation in conversations once easier now multiplied into tangents met by blank stares widening the moat around her Body that gave birth five times, still breeding resentment among women who […]
I hide in the laundry room my family thinks I’m washing, I trip on old Doc Martin boots and dream of 80’s moshing. I shift my junk from pile to pile to clear a tiny section, Some old lady’s watching me. Nope. That's my reflection. I hide in the laundry room my family thinks I’m […]