from the poem below. i saw this like two weeks ago and i haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. no matter how incredible a poem or any other form of art can be, at the end of the day it’s action that brings the material change. no poem to free you.
one of my roommate is a poet & sometimes, days later, i find bits of our conversations in the poetry she writes. she likes to read us whatever she’s working on before bed. i often fall asleep in the quiet that follows, thinking about how lucky i’ve become to live in a space where queer being and longing flows freely and abundantly
i'd be lying if i said today (dst) i wasn't so happy with the clock change. now, i'm no fan of the unnecessary hassle... but i love sunlight!! today i was 21 and i cut up tomatoes and had so much fun, taking in this strange new sunlight as the daffodils wilted and i thought about last night, when we all went clubbing. yes to longer days!!
