from the island of holy mangoes

an uncharted soul will drive you anywhere,

transform your heart to a peacock feather,

fan the flames in your amorphous eyes,

while your mind collapses spontaneously into back flips.

tell me, is oasis one of those truthful lies? 

do we ever learn to walk amidst tidal waves? 

or does this water just continuously tumble through us?

I want to know if a decision breaks me or creates–

if the splinters of me thrive best scattered, among alien lifestyles.

I walk until I shrug,

until my feet become oversaturated in dirt and my hair consumed with tangles,

my heart’s pocket book filled only with gratitude. 


Pai, Thailand

heart blurred. shoes worn.

I am hanging over the edge of the world, breathing rice paddies and fields of garlic.

the wind tumbles through my pages and I find the ocean in the eyes of an fisherman. 

he is smooth as a river rock;

I lie naked within his heart. 

we share cigarettes until the plastic burns away.

until our skin peels and lands upon our feet.