- Jun 16, 2020
The mind drips just as paint dries Slowly But it does not curl It does not curse My mind morphs to fuchsia-purple Yours melts to...
- Jun 11, 2020
Double Yellow Lines
The street light illuminates the two lines that never touch. As they run from east to west, they ordered me to stay on my side. They...
- Jun 8, 2020
Absence is still Absence
He left. His love, once present, now burrowed into the ground like a squirrel at night, resting its body. Or preserving its food. He said...
- Apr 1, 2020
She simply picked it up out of boredom— its rust-kissed frame, deflated tires, and that chain that made it sound like an orphaned bird...