You made my eyes fill with salt and my heart stop. My children are now not toddlers and I look at the young families the same way. Some days walking down a street with someone I love there is a stab in the heart that this is indeed the best that it can ever get and one day it'll be gone - by estrangement, decay, death or forgetfulness - for all that is guaranteed in this life is loss.

The joys of growing extra eyes — Far too much thinking. Thinking about the lift of a brow, the twist of a lip, the twinkle(or lack thereof) in an eye. …

Let’s talk about the Universe — For a scientific man, only a scientific explanation will do. — Once, you and I woke up before dawn to see a comet streak across the sky. It was the size of an orange for us to see; we joked that we would pluck it out of the sky and stick it in my school bag. Today, I hear that you’ve…

A poem about moving on. — Having great trouble sleeping. Do you think, if I run away enough from closing my eyes? If I escape into another world It won’t catch me? I know that within me the rain is constant. Even while I stand in the sunshine in the garden. I almost envy the people…

An invigorating science fiction trilogy on the administration of death in a post abundance world. — I generally try not to spend too much money on buying books. Where I live, we have a lot of “Street libraries”, which are just awesome. One of my finds in these treasure boxes was “Scythe”(2016), written by Neal Shusterman. Not going to lie; the distinctive cover art by Kevin…

Personifying natural forces is nothing new; let's twist the seasons —and add a tiny political angle. — Spring is a naive teenager, idealistic and up in your face. How much energy is required to overcome the inertia of the cold? She riots in the streets, hit by pepper to the eye, she radiates out warmth: thawing the snow off the ground with the best of intentions. …

And some need to be broken — My Love and I have a toxic pattern — we each exercise opposing core values on the eve of our anniversary. Last week was our 11th Anniversary — It seems crazy how we have such a milestone considering who we are and what we went through to get here. We…

And fails miserably — a poem. — It seems it isn’t royalty or rank or status that will define the course of your life. It doesn’t look like it’s education, knowledge or profession. It isn’t the family you are born to which measures the love you are worth or the family you find, or the family you make…

Most people want to buy a house in the city, but I daydream of returning to my roots — having grown up on a farm, I want to go back to simpler rhythms. — When I live on the farm, I shall grow strong, corded musculature. When I live on the farm, I will nurture the crops of my choice — lavender, berries and irises. When I get away from this light speed life, I will write for longer and more connected. …