Out of my

Like an iron - repetitive with steam

heat radiates on my face

No, I’m not joking

(These) poems embarrass me

Living out of my toiletries

Learn from the best and unlearn the rest

I want breakfast in the solarium with my weird kids and hot husband

a moving curtain rod, for daily transformations

you don’t know

I underpainted you crying

even though you look maniacally happy

I dreamt of San Francisco as a layered futuristic city

we hovered up and down levels of infrastructure

on our way to a soccer game

We were playing and spectating

sorry it took me a minute

I had an eventful yesterday