My blogs

About me

Gender	Female
Industry	Arts
Occupation	Fictionist, journalist
Introduction	The river got nervous and ripped all my fingernails off. The river longed for the emptiness of sinners. The river wore a fedora and waited for me – leaning on a pillar. The river stole building blocks from waiting rooms at the doctor’s office. The river folds like a paper plane and catches wind. The river offers me free pads of paper. The river fills me, touches me wet and soft. The river cries, the river told me I was will be happy. The river doesn’t demand the American dream of me. Is black as tar at night. If I enter the river, it spreads me farther than the mountains, farther than the stars, farther than epidemics of apathy. the river has no beginning, it has no end. On the river the wild duck floats. On the river tiny green leaves dissipate. In the river, cement blocks hold B to the bed. In the river I find pinot noir and the red cheeked women to kiss, to admire, I think about their fate – the fate of poetry. In the river I beg for your education, to learn from you. I long to be the mouth of the river- to be flowed into.
Interests	Writing, reading, nature, music and the arts, kindness, exploration