When I think how far the onion has traveled
just to enter my stew today, I could kneel and praise
all small forgotten miracles,
crackly paper peeling on the drainboard,
pearly layers in smooth agreement,
the way knife enters onion
and onion falls apart on the chopping block,
a history revealed.
And I would never scold the onion
for causing tears.
It is right that tears fall
for something small and forgotten.
The most beautiful thing I’ve read today by far.
“Had a dream that you bit
Caitlyn Siehl, “Toothless” (via alonesomes)
out my fragile teeth.
Made a necklace with them
me dead in my toothless face,
‘I’m sorry, but you were gonna
eat me alive either way.’
And I said, yes. Yes.”
my wedding ring finger is throbbing
"Woman. Do not wait for a poet. You are already poetry."
A little spray paint and a dead wall can shake you up. Lessons learned in Bogotá.
"Oh captain, my captain."