slowly, this illness is releasing its grip on me. i sleep past eight most mornings, reliably scarf down three meals a day. sugar is once...

think not of what you have lost but all you have gained. my return to three solid meals a day. the ability to sit through my afternoon...

how about you take a break from chasing your dreams for a new york minute and admire the gentle giant ambling home from the dog park...

the air stole the water i left over the course of days until nothing was left but a ring of russet residue of unfinished business

and in the end, does water not pour forth from the heavens precisely when we are most parched?

even a few grains of sugar draws out the latent sweetness from the bitter, bringing to life a symphony of spices grounded by assam, a...

i am the kind of tropical heat that renders the temperate feverish with unrequited longing. tongue numbed by eye of the bird, cheeks...

the art of teasing out your deepest, darkest notes, taking you right to the edge of burning before extinguishing the heat, leaving you...

for too long, i’ve been forced to shoulder burdens that weren’t mine to carry and now my body is aching for it. my upper back throbs in...

skin the colour of scorched earth mind poised as the moon someone who cleanses me like the ocean shows me the beautiful and the sublime...