you’re burning what does it taste / like when god makes mistakes

The snake bites its tail in a desperate attempt to live, does so, and dies. / But it lives again and again, the story told over and over.

The sinking feeling trailed me as I worked my way around the room: There’d been a precious opening, and I’d wasted it.

In my writing, my father is ‘Dad,’ because I need this less intimate address as a buffer from what I have lost, left behind, or perhaps never even had.

"Through the safe and tender space of the residency, I found a new approach to my art-making: writing as a gift to my reader."

"I consider myself a multi-genre writer. I will write anything—fiction, nonfiction, poetry, play—if the spirit hits."

"Lately, I have been writing about power—how it is stolen, how it’s manipulated, and what it means to fear its existence within you."

"This project is my prayer for Palestine and her people to be liberated, and for us, her wider communities, to become accomplices in her liberation."

"This is localism, I think, the way the sound of the plot traverses the valley with its many hands, the way these ruptures slow time to a treacly syrup."

"Each devotee orients towards the same physical and spiritual point: beautiful alone, resplendent together."

"What becomes of prayer then when the reasons why we pray bring attention to loss?"

"I never meant to create these videos. They emerged as I attempted to express myself through art during times of profound suffering."

"The censer holds nothing but moonlight, / prayers risen songs ago. Now, only laughter holds you."

"Agatha refused to fuck a magistrate, so he imprisoned her in a brothel."

"We all had something to pray for."