shadow-work
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There are two of us living beneath my skin. He arrived first to every war. She stayed behind to rememberwhat we were fighting for. He is iron beneath the tongue,the locked jaw,the hand that does not shakeeven when the rest of the world is burning. He learned strength without boundaries. So he became very goodat…
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There was an agreement once. Older than the people who signed it. Older than the beds they shared, the children they raised, the names carved into courthouse paper. No one remembers writing it. That was the clever part. It passed from hand to hand without ink, disguised as love. The masculine would provide. The feminine…
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He was the confessional without the collar. No stained glass. No wooden booth. No priest waiting patiently on the other side of a little brass screen. Just a telephone that was almost always on speaker and a man who could never keep his sins inside his own mouth. Behind closed doors, they poured out. The…
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The woman in Jackson Square told me I had brought someone with me. I smiled. Of course I had. He had been with me for years. New Orleans was sweating through midnight, all perfume and rot beneath the balconies. Rain still glistened between the bricks. Somewhere down Chartres Street, a trumpet was playing something slow…
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They underestimated what you could do, who you are. The first attempt happened before you could speak. You wouldn’t remember it. That was the point. By five, you had already learned to watch people’s faces before listening to their words. By eight, you understood that love occasionally packed a suitcase. By twelve, betrayal had introduced…
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I closed my eyes because someone told me the answers were inside. I thought that was bullshit. Most advice given to people who don’t know what to do with their lives eventually involves breathing. Breathe deeply. Be present. Clear your mind. As if the mind has ever agreed to be cleared simply because someone asked…
