"The white fathers told us, "I think, therefore, I am" and the black mother within each of us – the poet – whispers in our dreams, I feel, therefore I can be free."- Audre Lorde

Saturday, January 15, 2011

forbidden love

My Barbies fornicated with ninja turtle action figures... all the time.
(poor,poor Ken)

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

happy cervix

I drank a Pabst Beer, after my first Pap Smear, to commemorate.

The English minor in me, thought the phonetics of it was funny.

Saturday, January 8, 2011


Being "grown-up", sometimes feels a lot like being a dancing bear.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011


tiny white tea cups. in a kitchen that is not my own. matching saucers and a clock. ten minutes left. in this room, space, company i can not let myself forget. you are there. with every second dying, there is a silence left for mourning. he will come. i will go. and again you will be further than time. but here, now, we sit. staring at white. eight minutes. nine years surface. flow in and through the time on the wall. the story of us is six minutes long. sip. tea, not words. our mouths fill, and we swallow. pain. words unspoken spiral down throats, and into tummys where they lived before dawn. four minutes. i consider hiding under your table. but dont. i rarely do what i consider. instead i quietly caress the warmth of my cup. you look through the blinded window. we pretend. we pretend we're more powerful than the three minutes that threaten to steal us. i sip. you sip. the rest of the world doesn't exist. not now. only you. only this kitchen. this tiny white cup. this panic. this time i crave to stop. Two minutes and I stare at my naked wrist, thankful i have no watch. time torments and your eyes look sad. i memorize them anyway. i wonder if my own give it away. so i look deep into my teacup. nothing tricks you. and even in the silence you hear me perfectly. because we share air. that no one else can breathe. One minute left- there is only breath. but even that, feels painful. Every second taunts. I drink, even though my cup is empty. At ten seconds the world unthaws--begins to feel real again. it's time. 1 second left, we hug goodbye. Every single organ in my body feels like its been broken into a zillion little pieces but i smile anyway, to tell you it'll be ok.

snail coitus makes me smile