Abused child

do not presume to know memy face a frowning mooncrevices of sadness besmeara hoary soul who wonders here wounds scab, heal and gazeas an eyeless void, she paintsno peak can lug the weightof a child begotten such a fate

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The cliffs of moher

leaves of many colors mingle to dispersea steaming bowl of porridge to feed the craving earthrain turns directions, as limestone clenches sea flowersour love flying with the peregrine falcons by the cliffs of moherusing night writing, molds of movement, on the blanket we once did share

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My New Poem, “Memories Buried In a Box,” Now Live at MasticadoresUSA

I am honored to be published in MasticadoresUSA (Editora: Gabriela Marie Milton, Director: j re crivello)   I am the seasoning in your food, infused with blood-tinged lovegrave diggers plow a hole into my left eye, now crossedblack memories are buried there, along with my visionlifeless in a woeful, cardboard box, are my wedding ringsmy […]

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My New Poem, “Leaving Blue Doors,” Now Live at Spillwords Press NYC

voiceless rhythms hide conflict behind earless wallscobblestones assembled centuries ago, bask in white lightforgotten names of flowers already seared into my raw fleshpink and crimson colors hovering with their scentexploding like a trap door in the tiny hairs of my nostrilsbarren is his constant silence, which feels like screaminganxiously red eyes stare, as your tall […]

Read More My New Poem, “Leaving Blue Doors,” Now Live at Spillwords Press NYC