Poetry in Motion
The morning air is cool and soft. A cornflower blue sky arcs overhead with no sign of where it begins or ends.
Black plastic billows in the breeze,
a hungry ghost ravelling string fingers around
mangrove twigs and tendrils that reach, beseechingly, across the water.
The Healing Season
Three times we tap and I repeat her statements as she adjusts them slightly each time. Then I close my eyes and take two deep breaths, noticing what I’m feeling in my body as I exhale.
My Dream Man is a Woman
Learn about my relationships journey from heterosexuality, marriage, to finding the man of my dreams, who is in fact, a woman.