If I am going to tell you about love First kiss the ripe blackberry bruises. Dark purple bruised sight afore her time’s end. Juices flow,…
Always the Poet
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Last quarter of Earth’s moon, inflation for the cost of thoughts. Night or morning never knew, how sun would come to drop her jaw. And…
I journeyed for so long, past so many dark houses and gutted storefronts. Miles of barbed wire. And then I come upon an opening, this…
I can still taste him on my lips. Like glacial water and exposed greens and a blueberry sweetness lingering. The lure of his essence as…
The sensorium of a paper brain knows dappled sunlight to bring Yellow Jackets, and black- eyed Susans knows the taste of insatiability as almonds milked…