Love with shadows

When I was with you on the flat top of a low mountain. Red earth pooled around the curled dried branches of shrubs who cackled in the wind. We were in love, with–as you said later–our shadow selves. Like the dark side of the approaching clouds. Wet air mixing with the dust anticipating its transformation to mud. It smells like the top of your head.

Sharp grass under our bodies then.


Sitting in the New Hampshire north. Under a wall mart gazebo tent. We set it up poorly, in the rain, this is why the poles

Things That Happened

The following were some things that I recalled from an ayahuasca ceremony I participated in. I appreciated my mother and saw that I need to

occupiing wallstreet

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