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mind-body separation
my focus, my head melted like bubble-gum on a summer pavement, stuck, fucked by the catch in my throat, of your breath, the taunt of the air insistent not in every instant, but every now and again...
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the loneliness of train whistles
the loneliness of train whistles has been known to keep us up at night. when there is moon, we play hopscotch on old sidewalks with chalked silhouettes of desire. when there is not, we walk...
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evitability
in the kitchen, the hyacinth finally begins to open, its fragrance still subtle & not enough to cover the bitter almond april stain. we are eight days in, now, & you go better without me every...
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