On autopilot in the August heat

To write a story so big it holds humanity in its arms would be a gift to the collective of its own doing- messengers carry the words we can’t articulate the nights we pretend we have nothing to say

3 birds

three birds flashed before my eyes you, me, and elohim what a holy trinity┬áI thought comedic and full of errors we made sure to leave room for tragedy to honor the past that was burning between my fingers as I came home to me now I can really see now I can really see WeContinue reading “3 birds”