[bonemeadows]

june and all i can feel is the bright green tenderness of a new leaf

[bonemeadows]

extreme tenderness at all times: holding seeds in my hands, holding my friend who didn’t bring a jacket, carrying the bugs outside, moving the sapling to where it will have room to grow

[bonemeadows]

[bonemeadows]

4.7.22 @nosebleedclub prompt, real angel

[bonemeadows]

clean sheets, one window open to the cool air of spring dusk, a glass of water, and a dog and a book on the bed

[bonemeadows]

second day of spring

[bonemeadows]

both of us are always so entranced by those dark woods across the water

[bonemeadows]

early march and the red-winged blackbirds are back

[bonemeadows]

just got hit with an overwhelming, dizzying, desperate need to go to the library and look in the free magazine pile i must be strong and get through tonight and work tomorrow and then i can do that

[bonemeadows]

some of the books i read in 2025

[bonemeadows]

i made a pact with memory but the terms are ill-defined

[bonemeadows]

world too big for my heart

[bonemeadows]

mattaei botanical gardens - july 2025

[bonemeadows]

ann arbor - july 2025

[bonemeadows]

a friend’s home, saturday morning - july 2025

[bedroomlight]

Michigan

Summer 2025

[bonemeadows]

07.01.25 - @nosebleedclub

90 on the frontage road just to feel your eyes dragging on their own blood supply. i scratch the poison ivy blistered on my wrists. my mouth feels full of a rotten muscle. the heat on full blast so the car doesn't catch on fire or whatever. i think we should both die up here, feed the mountain and its glimmer of vultures.

later on, i wait for the coyote choir but the heat holds their bodies down in cool hollows. then i wait for the stars but they've been dimmed by the burning foothills. i remember a certain breeze of childhood that parted yellow kitchen curtains and tasted fuzzy with thunderstorm. i've made a bad plan that feels good. if i ever tell you about it it'll be too late.