The Point Is To Laugh Into A Kiss, To Laugh At Yourself, To Laugh W The World But Not At It, To Share

The point is to laugh into a kiss, to laugh at yourself, to laugh w the world but not at it, to share your dreams w people who listen to them, to realize when you’re wrong, to apologize even if it’s years later, to eat the bread that comes w dinner, to dive into the sea even when the water is cold, to forgive yourself but not be blind to your self, to remember your friends birthdays, to look for luck everywhere, to be sentimental and unashamed of it, to admit when you don’t know, to hold a shell to your ear and listen for the ocean, to hold your own hand and not shy away from someone else’s, to stop and smell the roses and the night blooming jasmine and the freesia, to live outside your head, to know how to cook for when you’re joyous and heartbroken and ravenous and lazy, to not crush the spider but help it outside, to always rediscover who you are and allow room for others to do the same, to watch the sunrise, to keep flowers in your house, to not let hopelessness poison you

Nighttime Begins with a Line by Pablo Neruda

by Yusef Komunyakaa

So my body went on growing, by night, went on pleading & singing to the earth I was born to be woven back into: Love, let me see if I can’t sink my roots deeper into you, your minerals & water, your leaf-rot & gold, telling & un- telling of the oldest tales inscribed on wind-carved rocks, silt & grass, your song & prayers, your oaths & myths, your nights & days in one unending lament, your luminous swarm of wet kisses & stings, your spleen and mind, your outrageous forgetting & remembrance, your ghosts & rebirths, your thunder stones & mushrooms, & your kind loss of memory.

Rachel Eliza Griffiths, “Good Mother”

Maya C. Popa, “Ghost Crabs”

home sweet home