Dear Craft



I’m changing. Becoming someone you wish me to be; a stranger, beneath a foreign sky, peering through cloud-scattered light in a white linen dress, with ink-stained lips wanting always — too much — all at once.

Within me I exile my own nostalgia, evolving in my fertile mind, warm yet terrified, true in femininity, honest in my innocence, as I learn the details of who I am becoming.

In a forest of prose I sit and rest my head next to your side, expressing to you my agonies in jumbled notions of words.

Then, starting again, wanting and wanting I drive myself to more, and it feels so right when I do.


 Say yes to your dreams.

With much love,




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Fall, 2017



The lack of pretense

A piqued curiosity

Reading something that makes the world more wondrous

Sandy shorelines, riverside trails

Lightning over a field of sunflowers

The drone of a distant train

Uncommonly beautiful sunsets

Uncommonly beautiful sunrises

The scent of a tattered blanket

Music in the middle of the night

Dinner with the right kind of smile

The pull to places no one else sees

Cutting a rose, feeling the sting of its thorns

Meeting new people who are complex, deep, exposed

Feeling like I belong with words

The truth in a dog’s eyes

Licking a spoon

The need to surrender.