{ embraces } - yogi. writer. photographer. austin, tx

There is a smell that fills my nose when I tuck my face into the perfect fit of your neck.
That familiar scent, familiar place, they encompass me and I buckle.
My skin prickles with chills and my knees weaken, but you never let me fall beyond your hold.
My fingertips explore the curves of your chest and they smooth away the tensions of your muscles.
I'll rub away your pain, kiss away your hurt, and soak in your tears.
Through injury, adventure, chaos, and all the unknown, I'm not afraid to share the struggles.
The center of your forehead marks the place my kiss belongs and my lips know the texture well.
They know the softness of your cheeks, the delicacy of your eyelids, and the return of your own.
My arms feel a ghost embrace slide around them and my heart pounds against the air.

{ scratch } - yogi. writer. austin, tx

On a cloudy day not long ago the sun broke through and pierced my shoulders with her graceful heat.
The line of my clothing visible long after I took them off.
Light left her mark and infused me with life.
When the sun hits my skin I respond, my shoulders curl back and I look up.
Through leaves it cuts a line of steely strength and vibrance, I see spots.
Cool shadows melt and make space for a warmth so tangible you can wrap your hands around it.
Pound, pound, pound.
The faster I go the more the dance builds.
Partnership of sweat and breath.
Each increase of my temperature encourages a sweet inhale of cool and waft of air.
A stubborn spirit and anxious mind propel the flame.
On a cool day I cupped my hands over my mouth and exhaled hot breath just to feel alive.
My ears prickled with pain and my head moaned to rest.
The memory of Summer a distant film on a dirty, fading cinema screen.
It's time to feel hot sand under my back again, time to be lit on fire from the outside in.
The brightness is so close that I can see it on the horizon even with my eyes shut.
Go, go, go.
Go get your dream sweetheart, tuck the purple into your heart, and live this blessed life.

{ un read } - yogi. writer. photographer. austin, tx

Where is the curious spark that flickered across your face?
There was wonder and desire.
Go ahead, crack my spine, break me in.
Lick your finger and turn every page.
Find the stories that you don't yet know, learn the secret.
In these pages, stories, humor, fantasy, and magic.
Read and uncover, ask and unlock.
A creative body of work in the palm of your hands.
Feel free, draw in my margins, leave your notes.
Dust and patina carry no glamour, blow off my cover and don't stop at the foreword.




I laid on the floor with my tears hot, stinging my eyes before they rolled to exit.
My chest heaving as I held in sobs, not now, not here.
I remembered the sky.
Last night I looked up, she was so blue I could hear the stars weep.
I've given up on myself somehow, I can't remember the light but I know it's there.
The light is blue like the sky and amber like my soul.
It feels like exile and I crave home.
I push and I push, at least now it's only myself, I have new sympathy for those I crushed.
My shoulders shake, I wish someone would hold them down.
Heart in my throat, a headache I can't escape, screams I can't unleash.
I let the rain fall straight on my head, soak my clothes, and wet my skin.
There was a time I ran through the storm and braved lightening to sprint.