on the chapter of Darb Tābac al-Kalb/ the bride-to-be licks her thumb/ and turns the page to sharp white/ pressed black

"if i were a tree..." A poem about happiness and freedom.

A poem about a man who builds fences to keep strangers away, and a woman with memories of much worse men.

Listen to the music of your pulse and feel the winter cold before "the first amber lick of light" in this poem.

A couple moves into a house on Jericho Road where something lurks in the creaking of the wood at night.