I'll be the flower in your garden
Golden mustard yellow ones
So rich. warm and soft
Like the sun with a blanket on

Nature is a gift.

“aficionado artiste”
“compassionate creative”
“enlightened erudite”
“siren singer”
these pearls that spill from your lips…
of course they do, clam that you are.
haven’t you seen Me? a poised performer, strung pearls over every joint
My neck, My wrists, My ankles, My waist—
all the places where bones settle and dust gathers
“heavy is the head that wears the crown,”
but Mine is wrapped in threaded pearl
heavy is the body in the brocade robes,
but Mine floats in tangled pearl

would I swallow pearl, I would sink and drown
but in this pearled net, I cascade in the wake, pulled along

“forgiving friend”
“irreplaceable idealist”
“reinvigorating rarity”
“enigmatic exemplar”
these pearls that fall from your fingers…
of course they do, shuck that you are.
haven’t you seen Me? I glisten, adorned and tangled in pearls.
I must be the most glimmering thing your piteous eyes can witness
with your mangled flesh and shattered shell!

my flesh? i have no flesh.
I became pearl long ago,
but the memory of flesh ensnares me.
i cultivated every single pearl with my own flesh.
i forced them into your mouths, hoping you would swallow them for me
praying you would sink for me
watching you drown for Me—
oh, won’t you drown with me?
swallow my pearls and sink to me,
and pull me back to the surface?
(caught in a net of pearl like this, how can i swim?)
(that body drowned long ago)

if you don’t drown in these lonely depths,
wind these threads around a hook
and pull this empty, pearl-embedded net through the wake.
my flesh is long sunken,
but I can still make your boat beautiful

They say there’s a ghost in the pond.
Big as a dog, orange like fire,
wears a face that’s not its own…
a mask of stone and fury.

But it’s no ghost.
It’s a goldfish.
One they flushed,
or forgot,
or never believed in
when it was small.

It lived in glass.
Fed crumbs of care.
Until the world cracked open,
and water poured wide.
The fish swam free…
and became itself.

Now it rules the pond.
Not with teeth,
but with power.

The koi step aside.
The shadows watch it pass.
Because this goldfish
learned how to grow.

Not a ghost.
Not a warning.
Just a goldfish
who outgrew
everything they gave him.

There is a man in my closet
He comes out at night
Crawls over to my bed
Turns out every light

There is a man in my closet
He caresses my skin
Holds me gently
And the warmth seeps in

There is a man in my closet
He reaches into my throat
Fiddles around for hours
Just to pull out the day I was born

He howls with my mother
Sways in her tears
Weeps with my father
And it tells me it wasn't real

He rips it to shreds
Lets me watch the day fall apart
Says I made it all up
Because I can't stand the dark

The man in my closet
Doesn't like to imagine
A world without me
But wonders what would happen

If I didn't dream
Of smiling on a swing set
Or have the memory
Of hiding in my closet

Where I dreamt up the man
Who let me paint with words
Watched as I stepped out
And boldly touched the world

A time where I was pink
And every day was golden
When my hands would touch the ground
And somebody would still want to hold them

When I could stand atop a hill
And want to climb higher
The man would reach into his pocket
And pull out a ladder

But lately he retreats further
To a corner in my closet
With all the shame and guilt
He knows it's haunted

By painful apologies
Unnecessary remnants
Ones he wishes I would burn
So we could stop reminiscing

Again he reaches into my throat
Pulls out another day
One where I was lonely
One where I wish I had said

Please don't leave me
Please stay the way you are
Pink and golden
He'll catch you from afar

Now that dear man
Is only trying to keep me golden
Amidst all the clothes in my closet
For me, he'll fold them