In thinking about privacy, I try to be brave with a small dose of disassociation thrown in for good measure.
KELLY GRAY (she/her) resides on Coast Miwok land amongst the tallest and quietest trees in the world, deep in fire country. Kelly has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize by Atticus Review and Best of the Net by The Account Magazine, and her writing has appeared or is forthcoming in Passages North, Pithead Chapel, Pretty Owl Poetry, The Normal School, River Teeth, Lunch Ticket, The Inflectionist Review, and more. Her debut book of poetry, 'Instructions for an Animal Body,' is forthcoming from Moon Tide Press. You can read her work at writekgray.com.
By the white tile of tub, water becomes the smell of ceanothus morning. Cow bellow mist slinks the soft hand of hill. Wood collects moisture, swells against steam. Drag your finger across glass. Below, a trellis of jasmine. A library, an owl beneath bell jar. A brick oven, built in burst of cala lily. A […]