if only my lungs could cleave each clove

*

then the dawn is nothing more than a particle of an orchid

*

in the bark of a tree like a comma

*

sage or magenta you pick the cause of deceit

*

could pass for gold the charred sea of lust

*Published in the 2023 edition of Under the Basho (PostKu section)

but i

was the wild vine

of twilight

*

ripped begonia

who's gonna

love you now

*Published by horror senryu journal on 8/15/23

it's not what you think it's about

my hands were wrapped tightly around

the vessel of white clay on the wheel

(spin, spin)

i brought it up and down and then opened the edges

ever

so carefully

i shaped it and pressed my palms

to the side and took the most loving

dips of my yellow sponge in

the water bucket before me to gently form

the outside and the inside, and my GOD

it was beautiful

but the edges were not even

in fact, they were never even, and i

dipped my fingers into the clay without taking

my time to center this lump upon the wheel

i reformed and cut what i could save

tried to love

tried to fix

tried so hard again to love

that unusable pile of mud

but then reminded myself that it's nothing

truly

a few minutes and a few dollars down the drain

literally

and now when people ask if i did everything

that i could do to save my marriage

i shake my head

laugh

and quietly walk away

*Published by Skyway Journal on 8/5/23

then there are bluebells and butterflies

and maybe

this is the only way i know

how to speak

within the company of other humans

i am water

do you know what i mean?

here but nowhere

and always out of grasp

fingers running and running endlessly along

a creek's bed to no avail

*Published by Skyway Journal on 8/5/23

honeysuckle

finally a quiet

place to grieve

*Published by Cold Moon Journal on 8/2/23

a single violet

now everything

is precarious

*Published by dadakuku on 8/1/23