no stars have come for us no birds align in coded message there is only us and all the ways I say without saying that I am both broken and blooming, and uncertain how to welcome hope and despair on such unequal footing © Sarah … Continue reading no stars have come for us…
love remaining half-asked, with an exile’s hunger, what have you lost? smoke never stops moving, alters nothing, and leaves irretrievably when exactly does time distill us down to fire? down to accumulated passion? at what point have we traded the marked directions of known constellations … Continue reading what has been lost
craving stars, I crept down the crouching hallway, disturbing only moths seeking their own small allowance of light trees sleep, lowering their limbs by fractions as the day subsides, leaving only the incremental gestures of slumber I have had to explain often the peculiar edicts … Continue reading insomnia
© Sarah Whiteley This is from a little project with tanka that I’ve been having fun with. Stay tuned for more!
turtles are the only traffic here - moving slowly landward with the June-shadowed moon under palely trailing feet and a torrent of stars all day, the sea bloomed - bursting brilliant in white florets against the sand but at night, the upsurge eased and sun-brushed … Continue reading night swimming in Tulum
what matters is this - that there are cranes strolling in the shallows - a silhouetted grace against the sky's dying bloom that the waters of the sound cradle the brilliance that pinkens the hills and wash the dusklight onto shore that chilled feet are … Continue reading taking stock
the moon has captured me by the ankles, is crawling through me and I must burst into new surfaces this morning my hands awoke, and for the first time in years, ached to find something other than air beside them but even without the solid … Continue reading untitled