sweet nothings

11 • 26 • 18 cochabamba, bolivia

I love
sweet nothings
the gap between night and day
hammock napping post-lunch
goodmorning coffee
chopping garlic
rays of sunlight on delicate skin
smiles of recognition
shared food
passion fruit juice
laying on green grass
the wind through the taxi window
washing dishes

give me more betweens
to be in

Unending

11 • 20 • 18 Isla del Luna, Bolivia

surprisingly, I’m not referring to track at all.

there are some finish lines
upon which I should collapse
empty
satisfied
proud
there are others
through which I should jog
aware of all ahead
hungry
leaving *some* inside
knowing that my sprint will come
and this jog
is a gift to myself
enough energy to,
when the time comes, sprint
faster
fuller
sweeter
braver

Homebase?

10 • 30 • 18  Ifran, Morocco

It’s snowing outside and I feel at home
watching snow leave a field full of October patches
Yet I feel equally at home
watching sea spray fly off of Rabat’s sunset cliffs
Can they co-exist?
Is home every place I’ve ever lived? loved? hated?
How can I love all these things
too far for thread to stitch
together
Will I always be frayed? strained?
Trying to love and be too many things
at once
What if I don’t want to change?
Hey pain
you might just have to live inside me
occasionally rising bile into my throat
and terror into my dreams
I’m sorry for loving too hard
holding too tight
I know it would be easier if I didn’t
But
these fingers can’t help but grab more than they can hold
Destined to weave my feet into every place
they walk too often
I tried to hold back
but whole is too lonely
I think I’d rather split pieces away
even if it hurts too much
to stand
on these wobbly
torn apart toes

i love hard things?

mhmmm i love hard things

10 • 22 • 18 ben smim, morocco

i love hard packed earth beneath my boots as they hike uphill
i love 32 hard teeth, pushing past lips into the open air
i love bending the hard bars of *the rules* that cage me in
i love the hard navy of night skies littered with stars
i love hard cold tile underneath bare feet wandering who-knows-where towards who-the-hell-knows what
i love hard words pouring from strained mouths saying words needed to be said
i love the hard pearl around my neck, worn by my warm grandmother before me, somehow shaped from sand by an oyster’s slow tongue
i love hard, slick river stone, smoothed over a million times by a million rapids run
i love the hard of rapid breath, legs on fire, sweat dancing across collarbones, hitting the wall and pushing on. because i can. i can. i have. i will.
i love loving me hard, loving you hard, loving this hard world hard
i love hard. hard is the meat.
sink your teeth in.

Is He God? Is She Mother Nature?

purple ducks and green rivers

10*21*18 chefchaouen, morocco

I love engendering things
when I become to love things
I mostly feel them as female
rivers are shes
because I am female
purple walls are shes
and I love female
but sometimes I feel them as male
ducks are hes
because there are males that I love
green pickup trucks are hes
but I hate when the world engenders things
for me
this is my mind
interpreting this world
don’t do this for me
let me see this raw meat with my own eyes
slaughter it with my own hands
I don’t want your precooked steak
on a shiny platter
fuck platters.

I like my steak medium rare.

fuck you brett kavanaugh

i’m so glad i’m not in the US right now. i’m too angry.

10 • 11 • 18 rabat, morocco

There is a fire lapping from my toes
red dirt clawing from my fingertips
iron anger emanating from my rib cage
electricity rippling through my muscles

I have a fierceness that can’t be quited
rage that can’t be quenched
Run through the streets screaming off my skin

My stomach awakens to the crackling of a thousand dreams
knocking at the gates

one day they will invade the castle.