my lungs are sandbags.
full of stories.
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Tickle your toes. . .
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Ah, 7. The number in question. During this process of developing my first full-length work of prose, and a memoir to boot, I have considered...
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sex object. not afraid of the words. I've used many objects for the sake of sex. in fact my body has been pretty disposable- I don't...
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two squinting painted eyes looking solemn on a leathery face. this knight of the golden age has a 20 gallon bucket of a hat atop his slicked... -
This is just a short note from me to inform you that after my extensive monthly study and subsequent written exploration of Psalms and Prove...
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Rain, dearest friend. You know just when to pound on my head. I know there is more to this world, than what I have given from inside myself....
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In my dreams I am the fictional version of myself. The one I seek to be in my short-stories and prose. The one who gets her point across but... -
July 7th the face of a rose deflates our windowsill- not much of a garden. July 8th after the party- a painting is crooked I think someone d...
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lean in a little. say it like it's a secret. make your breath sound like italics. click your tongue against the roof your mouth then you...
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Cal, For Elizabeth Bishop You are American gossip, Didn't anyone have the heart to tell you? You said yourself, you are fantastic and u...
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You are not the first to ache and turn green, ill from the motion sicknesses and poisoned canteen-- As you hike up the hill of "What if...
Poets United Contributor
A curious piece. If every grain of sand were a story, you'd certainly have a lot to express!
ReplyDelete~Ms. Queenly
I love this its short but very powerful
ReplyDeletelove it,
ReplyDeletevery powerful lines.:)