Touchstones and Stardust

And throughout it all

The moon still shines and the stars

Provide a path home

Community

Every day I fall

over
     under
            sideways and

in love with New York. 

We wear our hearts on 
our sleeves and our votes, shared with
neighbors on our streets. 

Fingertips

And when words fail me, 
I’ll weave my heart into bamboo. 
My love, a thumbprint, 
left in the grips of tiny hands, 
in smiles shared across 
rooms across languages 
across cultures across 
the universal magic of 
a Moon in her full glory. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

I’ll love you
the only way I know how. 
Gentle as a caress, 
loyal as a callous,
I’ll love you
through the tips of my fingers. 

Cambodia

Siem Reap

Reunited with 
pieces of my heart, thank you
for the affection. 

Battambang

Reunited with
pieces of my heart, but I'm
leaving more behind. 

Phnom Penh

Reunited with
pieces of my heart, thank you
for hosting with care.

The Golden State

They claim nothing rhymes with
orange. 
That it has no true equal
in name, in zest, in color.

But nothing quite rhymes with 
California
either. 

If I were to draw from 
a dictionary, 
I could define surfing
as
the way we study tides
in search of the perfect wave. 

And if I were to pull from 
a thesaurus,
I could describe the redwoods
as
our elders, our protectors. 

But if I were to speak from
my heart, 
I would rhyme
orange
with 
California.

Pier Reflections

Deep breaths led to sighs;
I forced air into my lungs
searching for quiet. 

~ Until next time, Seattle.

Girls Haus

We fortified strength,
Fueled our muscles with love. 
Hell hath no fury.

El Salvador

Sea of caramels

salted with sweat from their brows,
as sweet as ever.

Floral Daydreams

My sidewalk musings

float among cirrus Fridays
and yearn for the sun. 

Aivy

I saw the lines of your face

etched into a past so haunting,
so full of quick smiles and 
a slow and steady perseverance 
that my breath caught deep 
in my lungs, in my soul. 

She was poise and composure, 
with a laugh that spoke to 
wisdom beyond her earthly years, 
a sound that was timeless, knowing, 
alien in its placement amongst 
hungry bellies and guarded faces. 
We met through a family as shy 
and fleeting as polka dotted butterflies. 
As they float around the temple 
do they worship the gods, or 
do they say thanks to the sun?

I found her to be fearless, a 
leader in the games we play 
as children before we understand
the underlying messages and 
warnings they teach us to survive. 
Counting becomes a march towards 
a borderland between prosperity 
and poverty, the steps in between
share the same 1,2... 1,2 rhythm.  

Her gaze knew too much, an elder, 
it was hard to tell if she was aging
forward, backward, diagonally...
pasts and presents and futures blended. 
She was a watercolor painting with
acrobats flipping in endless circles 
through hardship and success and 
moving through life's motions. 

I could hear your humor in her eyes, 
I could see your grit in the way she 
mastered anything placed in front of her, 
and as she danced I could feel the 
joy in her determination to thrive. 

Griff Graff

I saw the lines of your face

etched into a future so beautiful, 
so overwhelmingly warm that 
for a moment my heart shattered 
into one thousand pieces. 

It was nothing in particular, 
but it was a dandelion sunset, 
sunrise of promised tomorrows. 
"Morning sunshine" and "try some,"
and remember that time when 
your hair brushed your shoulders,
a protective layering not unlike 
the way my embrace was meant
to shield you from the elements. 

Someone sheared his Samson locks, 
but in his eyes was a past, was your
present, a gift to those around you.
You've always been family and when 
you were birthed into this world
we linked arms and our embrace 
was thicker than blood and was 
more sustaining than water. 
Genetics aside, we have GNA and 
terrible puns, the kind that make
your sides ache, your eyes squint. 

What did I do to ever deserve a 
brother so sweet, so thoughtful, 
and how can I ensure in this
rinse and repeat wash we call life
that when the timer beeps 
and the record is clean that 
I'll always have family like you?

He has your inquisitive mind and 
easy smile, a way of accepting and
challenging, not unlike tug of war
but more akin to a dancer.
His past is inexplicably etched into
the crinkles around your eyes.

Preah Vihear Musings

"Cultivate a heart of love that knows no anger."

Tread lightly on this world for                                        They protect and serve

it cannot always bear                                                a conflict of war and faith

the weight of our cruelty.                                                while butterflies float.

Q: 28th to Union

Blank stares and emptier faces, 

A sea of coral colors without emotion.
Pungent smell of that olive branch, 
french fry crispy but still unpalatable.

Accordions don't pay for themselves,
On pathways to nowhere in particular.
Gaps between thoughts and lives, 
mirrors the space between those lovers.

Climbing out from underneath your skin,
phoenix trapped in an endless snow globe. 
Missed connections with another one nearby,
a startled cry when the ground begins to shift.