as each morning breeze cuts the humiditythat has already settled into the cotton of my shirt,that life can be heavy.She guides my feet over potholes and cracks in the sidewalkwhere I see broken pieces...
Looks of Love cast down Tips of shovels scrape and scream As your body burns The dirt squirms and churns There are no tombstones, graves, or last words No not here Instead...
The dust stood still and silent, and I with it lost in transient swoon of breath and flesh( f l e e t i n g a n d f a d i n g )and left longing only to remember only to...
I fell in love with a stranger in my bedWe did things strangers don’t doWe held each other, searched with handsfor unknown landsSmiled and drew circles on each other’s backsWe found something...
In a basement in a house off of University Drive there is a recording studio. Inside the studio, four guys sit around and enjoy a drink as they listen to music. Upon first glance, it may not be obvious...
In his novel “Kafka on the Shore,” Haruki Murakami writes that he believes “beyond the edge of the world there’s a space where emptiness and substance neatly overlap, where past...
