Posted in art, friendship, poetry, writing


Roommates  Every time I blow dry my hair I think of you, us sitting on the floor on opposite sides of the dorm because the outlets were under our desks. Remember how we didn’t vacuum the entire first semester and that place where the baseboards meet the carpet was caked with errant strands, a second carpet on top of the shitty stuff already there.  I still use the same dryer six years later, the same $18 pink one with the retractable cord.  I think I told you this but I always thought your hair was gorgeous, the type of hair that had an essence, that reflected the type of person you are, carefree and beautiful with hints of originality, like how you’d wear it in a loose knot on the top of your head. I swear you were the one that started that trend.  I remember how you never brushed it, just combed through with your hands and how I stole the practice for three years after that, convinced that if I ripped through the knots  with the claws of a brush that I’d do more damage than good. Mostly I just wanted to be like you.

Hopelessly nostalgic tonight. This one’s for one of my favorite people in this world.

Sleep well my friends!

–Leanne Rebecca

Posted in art, poetry, writing


FascinatedMy friend Becca and I like to exchange writing prompts as a way to keep in touch (she lives on the east coast and I in the Midwest) and also to encourage each other to stretch our poetic muscles a bit. The last prompt was mine, and it proved a challenge, taking me a solid two weeks to produce. We were supposed to write about the first time we’d “met,” or in this case, the first time we saw each other. The prompt also came with a catch…it had to be the truth, regardless of what kind of light it placed the other person in. It’s been 5ish years since that fateful day, and I must say, she’s just as cool now as when she captivated me from across the room in our literary method class freshman year of college.

I recognize that maybe it’s scary to exchange this type of poem with a friend, vowing to tell the truth no matter what, but I promise it’s worth it. I loved writing this piece and I can’t wait to read what Becca thought of me all those years ago.

What would your best friends say about you the first time you locked eyes?