save the splinter

Broken eggs in unopened cartons, careful hands save the splinter from rough skin. The milk’s gone sour again, but there is no blood I can see. The feast of mold on the bread you bought yesterday and we soak your feet in warm water, try to save the things we can. … © 2017 Anna-Christina … More save the splinter

weeds + alien seeds

I pulled weeds from gravel driveways for a few summers. Dandelions are a hack with a trowel, thin weedy spines a quick straight pull, fat jade plants, low to the ground, impossible until you find the root. Gloves help, but not always. Even be-gloved, close-cut nails collect grime. There is time to think about how … More weeds + alien seeds

kitchen love

Suck lemons before you ask for love. Because your kitchen has much in it already. A cherry danish will look you in the eye every morning. A bagel will not sigh at the reminder of something promised. Coffee will hold your face in its palms until you remember why. Roast chicken will wrestle the sorrow … More kitchen love


There is a reason that they call it robin’s egg blue, for nowhere else save that fragile, formidable chalice is it found. I wanted to call that small and sacred eggshell mine, but no. It shattered lovely at my touch, for it was riddled through with the thousand-three struggles of the fighter fierce. … © … More crusade