Haiga Archive

evaporating snow
a plan
falls through

old wood creaking,,,
the light footsteps
of birds

She went under at the age of fifteen, bootstrapped into
shadows and omission. Like fledgling revolution, she was
all elbows and ankles and steel, cutting her teeth on clumsy
hits, dealing in lies and speculation. Hers was a radical
sensibility, always metal, cold in her hands, the slow click, bolt
through the shaft of her imagination. Now she’s high
scandal, trafficking caution and cash, a portrait of long
thighs and wrists. There’s no way out when you’re in
demand, there is only down, down and onward.

sun on stone
letting
go

spring convocation
looking for someone
to call my own

spring thirst
cupping my hand
to catch the rain

Madame Butterfly
notes drift
from behind her fan