Poetry

Your laughter stopped the autumn in its tracks.

Who would've known the asphalt would play my mirror?

If I were to hike across a dense forest and found the earth under my boots was as blue as the sky.

It was in a lake of broken glass that I first learned how to swim.

I have yet to see a broken bone by means of infection break another.

There was light in the world I was born into.

They unrolled the grass over me. They buried me without digging a hole.