Jicamahouse

If you like nostalgia and popsicles, you might like this one.🌵

Excerpt:

It smells like fresh creosote, soaked and dripping onto the asphalt on an evening walk. It smells like sweat running down your back when you step outside to finally cool off when you see the dark clouds starting to form.

I wish I could bottle that smell and take it with me everywhere I go because it's different, very different from rain in other places, I promise.

Poetry lovers, I have finally found a place to put my backlog of poems from years of hand-scribbled pages across several half-filled notebooks! Here's a little peek at this poem that you can find on my creative writing page if you are into that sorta thing.

The house on Positano had honeysuckle creeping up the side I plucked and plucked until I found the sweetest stem (it never was quite as sweet as I wanted it)