Every day you break

Every day you break a little more. First as the waves of contractions hit my swollen body three days too soon with a fierceness I name my daughter after. I wait and wait and wait hoping each sleepless night is a reckoning and stumbling into tomorrow still full. They say you will know when the… Continue reading Every day you break

What we always knew

Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night with an emotional itch I can't get to. My best friend got engaged last month and I'm already writing my speech in my head, every night, while the neighbour's automatic flood light forces its way through our heavy curtains and everything still feels so immediate.… Continue reading What we always knew

In the end it’s all tides

Sometimes I feel in such a hurry to get life started. Like it's not already happening, all around us. Like every day isn't already a step closer to whatever is coming next. It's not easy to sit still, though, when all these stars have aligned and I can finally see everything, all the tiny specks… Continue reading In the end it’s all tides

And now for something completely different…

Once upon a time, several years ago I dated a guy who liked to write. One late night, to stave off boredom we started writing a story back and forth. Today I found that folded up genius in one of my shoe box memory collections. You're welcome. T – Awesomeness; a profound word that can… Continue reading And now for something completely different…

In the outline of everything left behind

It wasn't that there were stars in your eyes, it was that it was all you could see. Twinkling lights and your own name blinking in and out like a vacancy sign on that old hotel that kept advertising colour TV long after it stopped being a selling point. It was like that with love—realizing… Continue reading In the outline of everything left behind

What it felt like then and other stories

There were things we wanted then that didn't seem ridiculous. Coffee without the grinds. Ice water just before it turns cool leaving wet rings that soak into the wood. We didn't need the bad with the good, the good was enough, it was plenty. Maybe it was naive to think we could section off our… Continue reading What it felt like then and other stories

Copy that

I take a job copy editing and find comfort in the culling of words, the monitoring of space. It's easy to love something until your flaws are pointed out to you—the things you let slip by. I pull out errors in everything I read, feel thwarted, let down when something passes my scrutiny. We don't… Continue reading Copy that

Up Current

You finally surface, smooth as salmon, like you always do. Breathing just under the surface and I think for a moment that I could touch you without getting wet. Hover my hand over the skin of water just breaking, those ripples whispers of something more than movement. --- In the belly of it, we were… Continue reading Up Current

Oh, the places I’ve been

A quick recap for all my admiring fans. cough. I got more traffic on my last post about the publishing apocalypse than on anything else all year! I feel like this means I'm not a crazy person ranting to the wind. Rather, a crazy person ranting to the relative silence of the internet. Or something. To my… Continue reading Oh, the places I’ve been

The difference is simple

There are poems that she never stops writing, filling page after page until her fingers numb and she has to tap them on the table to wake them. She has no shortage of revelations, in fact, starts awake in the night grasping for ink instead of light, her hair electric with nuance, panting. For me,… Continue reading The difference is simple