Multitudes

Objects.

For several moments, we turned to the windows.

There were shades drawn.

We turned and.

For several moments when we turned we gathered information.

The windows were gone.

There were places of lights in places of lights.

Published in TOK: Writing the New Toronto, Book 7. Purchase the book to read the full piece.

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the inviolable heart

It is my fifth birthday and I become aware. A canary is trapped inside my chest cavity. Its claws cannot grip the slippery bones of my rib cage. It flies in circles searching for a safe place to rest. . . .

Silent Oppressor

I see you lurking in the shadows you silent oppressor I hear you knocking on people’s doors unassuming polite personable you come like rain from gloomy skies your water healing the people vulnerable you promise sun when there is none dawn cracks and the storm passes bright skies convince us you are truth we celebrate your courage and follow in your trail our blood drenching your muddy paths our hands heavy with your ideals we have become your following you silent oppressor  . . .