Reese's PB Cup Pie | A recipe

I don't bake often, but when I do, I guess I volunteer to do dessert for the family Christmas party and then decide I'm going to make three. I don't know what I'm trying to prove, or why I thought this was a good idea, but it actually turned out really well and wasn't too hard at all.

Make sure to take breaks in between desserts so you don't start to hate baking altogether!

One of the recipes I made was a Reese's pie that was a variant of this recipe here. Due to my inability to consume products with high amounts of lactose, such as whipped cream, I had to adapt the recipe to fit my dietary restrictions and shopping abilities; it worked for me so I thought I'd share it with y'all.

Author Interview

So grateful to have gotten the opportunity to be interviewed by L.D. Montanino. You can read the interview on her blog here!

Sand Wish | A short

When the time is right and the sand is clean of footprints, for the tide has done its job and the wind has cleaned the rest, the only heartbeat on the beach comes from an androgynous little creature that ought not to belong either on the land or in the sea.

It breaks the uniformity of the wet sand as it slides up to a bird perched upon a rock to feed. The sea creature will feed, too; just as the bird moves to peck at some sandy insect, the creature has snatched him up and sunk its teeth into its poor feathered neck. It does not break the beach's cleanliness; there is no blood, no bone, no feather left behind.

Tattooed | A poem

The following poem is found in the anthology Where the Mind Dwells: Proclamation, available for purchase online:

Flying Whales Are Not Safe | A poem

World War Four will be fought
On the backs of whales in the sky
(With sticks and stones,
Like Einstein said)
And we will not ask why.

No. | A poem

A response to rape culture: a poem included in the 2016-17 Dominican University literary magazine, Stella Veritum, entitled "No."

I Am Not an Astronaut | A poem

For Alyssa:

I See What Was | A poem

From the street,
In the window
Of an old home:

Will You Go Out With Me? | A poem

It is a heart-pounding question
I ask
In the middle of the day
Just because
I think
Of you.

Darling Darlene | A poem

Darlene, stay with me.
Here in our past
We will never grow old.