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Iced Matcha!

Matcha, matcha, matcha. Somewhere, in the space between primary colors. Honeyed hot water and ground green tea whisked with bamboo. Wrists flicking, we move with an M or a W. Crackles as the warm liquid pours over. A lid, and another lid. Shake. Green speckles on white. A storyline, splashed here and there. Unplanned polka…

Atlantic Beach Pie

Pre-Post Script: It is most likely that, if you are reading this, the following is not about you. Staying honest, I had never heard of Bill Smith until his name showed up before the words, “atlantic,” “beach,” and -the real eye-catcher- “pie,” under my thumb. Wasting time on social media. It starts with an ampersand,…

Halva Spread

Memories of other things. Spreadable. Applicable. A friend says, It is what it was. Breath on windows. Chilly nights, the telephone. Pointer fingers. Secret messages spelled in fog. I am a prism and you are climbing a tree. Sacred space with only goodness because it is time. A little pinch of warmth. Sweet cardamom freckles…

Chocolate Chip Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cream Pies

Don’t you believe in magic. Chubby fingers, a craving met in the cupboard from a cardboard box with singular packages of marshmallow-sandwiching oatmeal cookies. A voice. A statement. Always. Who decides what is / what is not enough. When do we engage restraint. Why don’t we sometimes. Is there a reason we feel entitled to…

Hello Darlings

On the second level of the Minneapolis Institute of Arts, there are six eyes at the end of a long walkway. They surround the name, “Guillermo del Toro.” Through the entrance are pieces (big / small, spooky / scary, wonky / familiar) that encapsulate things that I have feared. Monsters, ghosts, abnormality, uncertainty. Things we…