This is going to be part bibliomancy zine, part creative prompt zine, and definitely pages to look at just for fun.
Tag: wordspells
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left behind: a poem
not just debris
from the storm
fallen twigs and
forgotten string
small dwelling
for growing
found the ground
from its
sky-kissed perch
oh, to scoop it up
to hold this proof
to dampen the structure
with saltwater tears
We are luckily safe after Fridays’ storms but there is damage throughout town. 
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Two collages and a haiku
opportunistic
robin plays bath splashing in
puddles of fresh rain
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Angst
I know you’re upset
But here
I carved a space
In my heart
Meet me there
We’ll have tea
Not too strong
So we can still
go to bed early
We’ll talk about the
meaning of
Our matching fingerprints
You scribble tears on your face
With blue crayon
They fall, rain from your cheeks
Splash into your cup
Allow me to drink it for you
It’s been long enough
You don’t have to do this alone
“Wolf turn” Episode five of the podcast Living Practice is live 💕 catch it here or find it on your favorite podcast platform.
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will you accept this payment
tended the garden of this mind
brains weren’t extraordinary
I cling to the title:
gifted
press the label onto my shirt
hand lingers above my breast
delusion
the tag tied round my toe in the morgue
it’s all I ever was…until, you know
I wasn‘t
plummeting grades, marks don’t matter
blackout nights, herded by strangers
bra stuffed with money
and tear-stained fights
this body became
the sacrifice;
payment on the altar of
expectation
color me surprised
you roll your eyes
not impressed
tell me this
is it enough yet?
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where do you see reflections of yourself?
Feet pull me out the door
And wind runs fingers
through my hair
It’s familiar:
this soft, electric air
between the storms
Damp earth sinks beneath me
I fall into lush moss
and vibrant greens
alive with rain
I see myself here
reflected back
by tree roots
and budding leaves
There is family here
in heavy water drops
and curious bird eyes
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loving gaze
Where it began: stilt houses
Skeletal remains emerging
from algae-green pools
Awe blooming at heart level
for faded places, forgotten
I whisper “thank you for open eyes”
now I lovingly see
crooked barns
crumbling factories
boarded-up businesses
debris piles left behind
wild-torn houses
places hold people, hold stories…
and now no one is left
to tend to these places,
they were once a flurry of
motion, aliveness, everyday mundanity
now no one bothered
to even tear them down
burn remains
memorialize their time here
honor what was
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Attention is magic: the leaf portal
I’m sharing my writing in a new space on ig, attentionismagic. But I’ll also be sharing here and on substack. 
New stickers for the mail club just dropped. They’ll also be available to purchase separately. Check it out here -
New fiction piece is live 💚
I’m writing a serial fiction over on Substack. It’s called Dear Lila: Refraction Road. It’s a meditative, surreal journey through an imaginal world where I meet an…interesting group of companions. It’s weird and trippy, I would love if you checked it out! Once complete, it’s my dream to compile it, edit it and make a new collage for each segment to publish into a limited edition book 💚
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The body is sacred: a poem
There may be meaning to taking quick steps; walking in circles; making loops again and again.
Our cells beg, they want acts of devotion radical care for the complex systems which make up a body.
Our brain may resist, asking for stimulation, crying for satisfaction.
For so long, you caved.
Now you see light at the end of the tunnel. You know wisdom comes from your chest…your beating heart…your pumping blood. It’s drumbeat that sounds the call of your soul; you’re never-ending vibration.
Starmoth Press 