to build a house

I dream in bookshelves and bottles, broken glass and tiles found down dusty roads that disappear into the horizon.   my love lives down a gravel road. rhododendrons lean out and over, pulling me in. he doesn’t wait for me. he never has.   the kettle is hot on the stove, and the blank pages … More to build a house


There are truths that you know, and there are truths that you learn. I’ve always known I had words inside my head. I remember laying awake in the honey-colored home, under the winter quilt and with a secret stash of lemon heads tucked between the me-sized mattress and the wall. I watched the dark letters … More broken


What I want to write about is wonder and joy and amazement and innocence and sparkly mornings and little warm hands, my bookshelf and the sprouts on my windowsill and my old, old friends that suddenly seem new, the yeast in my freezer and the starter on my countertop, the culture in my loaves, the … More (wo)man

Liliana Esperanza

I miss home. But I don’t know what that is anymore. I miss sun falling into the honey-colored house. The pink and the white with little flowers. The galax. That child. She was Esperanza. Making her way up through the trees and the brush of the drainfield, she is Esperanza. Crawling through the tunnels of … More Liliana Esperanza

Mis Tías

Tengo tías de todas partes. Tengo tías que hacen milagros. Tengo tías que son mariposas. Tengo tías que venden mermeladas. Tengo tías que besan a mi carita. Tengo tías sin las palabras. Tengo tías que entierran semillas. Tengo tías que hacen sus propias muebles. Tengo tías que bailan conmigo. Tengo tías que hablan mezcladas. Tengo … More Mis Tías

a thought

Can anyone still really dispute that what we are looking at was meant to be so much more? is there anyone out there who thinks this, this, is the goal? that we’ve come far enough? done enough? that this is as it should be? and, my god, shouldn’t we have seen it coming? It’s just … More a thought