Art Basel Miami 2015

Art is thought made tangible. For a special weekend, posers, artists, consumers, buyers, and admirers descend on Miami’s art scene. Exhibits, instillations, and performances abound!

Freedom Fighter

Who will fight for me? With balled fists and hoarse throats? For my restless spirit, my tired smile. Who will wake every morning and tend to my bruised heart; whispering reassurances across its weakened valves, pushing blood to my cold fingers and toes. Who everyday remind me of what I deserve; spinning a fairy tale... Continue Reading →

I am not unhappy. Moderately depressed from time to time, yes, but not UNhappy. I don't shun smiles or darken my windows with black velvet curtains while considering tattooing on my eyeliner (although that would save me time). I just refuse to lie. There's nothing wrong with being unhappy, so turn your smile upside down if that's what you... Continue Reading →

Good Morning!

I do some of my foggiest thinking this time of day. Still trying to shake off the remnants of sleep lurking in my periphery. Fiercely clinging to the whimsy of dreams I only half remember. Today I am catapulted into positivity by an otherwise unrecognizable well-rested and well-read Roze. John Legend can say it better than I. On the flip-side,... Continue Reading →

Woke Up in Tears…

Clutching hard to these lasts fragments of a dream like a fistful of glitter in the wind. Cheeks red and eyes puffy, face still sticky and tear-stained. I'm trying to pinpoint it. This morning I feel like a collage of vacation photos; space-fillers for an actual memory, actual feelings. I feel like big kool-aid smiles... Continue Reading →

Can I Have an Aaliyah Moment?

Can I come over? Come over... to see you tonight? Nights like these make me wish I had a single bed. That other side ain't nothin but mockery. To press my forehead up to yours. Sappy eskimo kisses. Inhale kisses on your collarbone and exhale a warm embrace with hands wandering my thighs. And we'll... Continue Reading →

Poem for a Poet

I used to think you were so expressive, so abstract, so prosaic. I could hardly meet your gaze on those few opportunities when we did speak. All those things made me admire you. Now I hold my own and realize that you're all those things but you're also a flawed, beautiful, work in progress like... Continue Reading →

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