Archive entry 3
You can
One day you'll meet a person Who, for no reason at all, doesn't like you On sight.
Read the poem You can →Discovery page
Poems about mothers, mothering, and what stays in the body.
These poems move through mothers, mothering, and the forms of love or pressure that begin close to home. Some are tender. Some are sharpened by memory.
Read these as a set of returns: to voice, to childhood, to the people who first taught you what care was supposed to feel like.
Start with these poems
Curated for this doorway into the archive.
Archive entry 11
You're such a beautiful child
One day you'll watch From the back seat of the car Your Dad grab your Mom's hair
Read the poem You're such a beautiful child →Archive entry 21
The shards that slice your hands
Each pivotal moment, Each crucial scene, frozen in time, Buried deep beneath the protective membrane
Read the poem The shards that slice your hands →Archive entry 101
One summer night, you'll glimpse infinity.
One summer night, you'll glimpse infinity. Climb the hill, between the rolling White Mountains, and on the way
Read the poem One summer night, you'll glimpse infinity. →Archive entry 90
Freeze-frames
Each of the freeze-frames of your worst moments dance in front of the mirror as it sparkles
Read the poem Freeze-frames →Archive entry 50
Your intuition knew
You'll never forget when you feel magic. It'll grab you by the throat And freeze-stamp the time and place—
Read the poem Your intuition knew →Keep going from here
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