Ajanta Judd 

She walks not to arrive but to listen to the rustle of eucalyptus breath, to the whisper of the dying, to the hum of ancestral chords

The universe is my lover I don’t need any other source of love No flimsy romance, no thumb-worn apps, no pleas for validation from those...

I am only satisfied when it burns cold When the brittle edge of the chill Kisses heat’s searing mouth To the west, to the east, the north an

From a 2020, 24 hour Poetry Marathon. I wrote one poem each hour for 24 hours straight. Theme: 'Even when you are lost, the land knows you'.

Scrunching through coarse sand on a morning dense with fog, there is no separation between ocean and sky. Thick dank air mixes with salt...