Maybe he, like me,is engaged in the kind of unspoken rebellionyou don’t want to perform too brightlysince you’re never certainanyone in your family will noticeyour darkened eyes, skeleton shoes, tousled hair,patchy attendance record.You may be...

I feel his arm Lightly Over me.He takes one of my outstretched hands.Draws it beneath my stomach.”One more time…”This is not sex,Not friendship. SomethingStrangeSpecialIn the stillness of his breath,The waterlike way he moves.He is making...

The dusty library air is electric with secrets/ almost palpable in the thick quiet that bounces between/ Cal and those books and me

It is strange to hear my wordsRead back to me.I don’t think I wrote themTo have them ever leave the page.I think I only writeWhat happens across my brainWhen my feet are too weary To...

Dare I tell them that since I came here to danceI have been giving pieces of my body awayTo ridiculous diets,To repeated injuries,To Remington?And that maybeI thinkWith each bit of my bodyI lose a little...

Does it matter that people and thingsHave words,Have names?If not,Why read any book?A litany of useless lettersDetached from bone, muscle.Or are words the only things that make the muscle, bone, memory, movement,PersonReal?

I’ve a long time trying to lovea brother whose only way of touching me is pain.A long time escaping into music.Practice, lessons, rehearsals that protect mefrom the hurting parts of life.I’ve been winning awards, applause,acclaim...

Life is a big story. Music is just one way to tell it, to realize how many tales all kinds of people share.

Four laughs vibrate in harmony,WarmDeliciousReal.