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.

Belonging

Writings from a dream journal I took on an ayahuasca retreat in Costa Rica. The first section was written between our first and second night

PorcFest

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

Body Shame

It took nearly 6 months to get a bike after moving to New York City. Riding in The City is a mix of reckless exhilaration