It is ten thirty in the morning. I take the sieve from the kitchen drawer. The handle feels familiar to my fingers and palm I am reminded of the other times I've used my skills for the various people I hold dearly. Flour, clove, cinnamon, nutmeg, and allspice fall through the holes of sieve and into a metal mix bowl. The mixture merges with butter, sugar, eggs, and pumpkin. I hear mom on the phone talking to my brother in Spanish as I am chopping bars of dark chocolate to pou

Among the pumpkins, beneath the autumn sky, I held my little boy’s hand as the moments passed by. The world felt softer, the air felt sweet, With golden leaves and dirt beneath our feet. Pumpkins resting in rows on the ground, Little joys and laughter all around. The smell of warm food drifting through the air, And for a little while, nothing else mattered there. Then came the train, so little and slow, Carrying us through a world painted gold. With my son beside me, watching

I wake up in the morning just like any normal person does. My alarm blares at 6 am, and I hit snooze, naturally, cause girl, let’s be so real right now. There is absolutely nothing I need to be doing at six in the morning. Eventually I drag my fat ass out of bed, walk to the bathroom before I have even brushed my teeth. Fifteen minutes have passed. Just me, standing in front of a mirror. Now, you might think I'm admiring myse

It was night when we found you, Sitting on a mound of dirt crying into the night How scared you must have been when our light shone on you You were so tiny and frail I was so scared you would not survive the night I stayed awake listening for any whimper or cry It was my most sleepless night You are almost a year old now, You have brought light back into our home Raising you has been the most exhausting and rewarding experience of my life Wherever I go, you are never far Like

In the morning I found you sleeping under the rosemary bush. In the afternoon you are hiding behind the mulberry tree, Tail wagging as you move between the sweet potatoes, cacti, and lemongrass. Waiting for me to throw your ducky so you can fetch it. Anapaula bathes you and brushes your coat. She untangles and snips off the knots in your fur. Together we towel you off and you shake yourself dry. And you follow Anapaula into her car Off to your vet appointment. I heard you be

She receives them with a warm smile, making them feel light as the fireflies that rise in her November moonlighted sky. And as more arrive, she lets them all into her large but warm and cozy abode, filled with romantic light that always flows. Romantic light that sometimes likes to make it all the way out of the windows to complement and dance with the night, who gladly gives into his delight. November— no one can forget her, with her sleepy, aged caramel eyes that always see

Rent was free, so how can it not be? How may I portray this in such a way for those who might envy me? It was a home, yet not like any...