Home Sweet Nothing

A dozen of them folding like they’ve taken a beating, the way anything worth doing makes you feel your lungs are on the outside, or how...

Meanwhile the sea moves uneasily, like a woman who, turning toward the window, might take in a breath, might tuck in the navel, or a leg...

after “It’s Harder” by Ada Limon

Three sets of them, one for each croaking window, breathing hot air like that of the summer we’d spent, how many years ago now. Listen,...

a poem about graduating, about leaving

When the jeans shrink in the wash. If the seatbelt is too snug. What it looks like from the outside. How the tracks warm before the...

a sonnet because I am in love

after Ada Limon