I never write about paradise. About the region between familiar hands and my own, about the person who makes the perilous journ...
Monday, May 30, 2016
Thursday, March 31, 2016
the boy with the scissors
I warn you, the words may be more malignant than beautiful. It’s a story about a boy and his plant, the seed that took so long to spr...
Tuesday, February 2, 2016
you & she (part 1)
Her soul is not a color, but a riotous scene from Hamlet, steeped with tragedy and the sound of bliss. She leaves the room like a gong, ec...
Saturday, November 21, 2015
the opposite of lost
he won't say it, but I know he wants to. you can see it when we're kissing. or breathing. making the kind of eye contact only...
Saturday, October 10, 2015
Monday, October 5, 2015
I see you
I have this month's exhaust accumulating behind my eyelids, a compilation of non-responses, excuses he planted like common roses, a...
Monday, September 28, 2015
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
