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afraid
i saw her in my dreams, crying. metaphor for an implicit tragedy haunting horizons between the possible and the inevitable; echoed footfalls fill the edges, hauling memories from an abyss like...
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two and a half thoughts on love
(part 3 of 3) Weary and milk-mild i stand ankle-deep in wet sand, each footprint a burden more than the last as i head away from the solace of heavy waters and back toward solid ground. And yeah, this...
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untitled
i think i am in love with little plastic needles, sterile blues, the arrogance of early a.m. overhead lighting; size 6 latex gloves that know the thrill of a one- handed knot in 2-0 silk, over and...
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what i found inside the black box
so much can happen in a decade. in a night filled with spiral-sta(i)red decline. things to hold on to, in sacred letters tall as a man: to touch. you should have known there: tangere, like want....
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