Monthly Archives: November 2015
. . prompted by Quickly in November, day 26.
.. on her arms: scars storied skin, thick with roped un -promise. on her heart: stars cosmos within, broken open commas. to mind her move her mark her, graffiti g r a c e in permanent marker. ..
.. When are you coming back to collect the love that she has left in triplicate? (Three kisses waiting on an old brick wall.) …………………….XXX .. Prompted by Quickly in November, day 24. (Wherein we place a famous … Continue reading
.. Ding dong. The clock is dead. The Lake is bowing her gorgeous head only to the ebbing sun. Her indigo blue dress has blushed crimson slate, and she’s twirling to greet a great rising stone moon. Enter the bear. … Continue reading
.. we didn’t know it was the last kiss, just that the sky was turning to slate and steel, churning in its own darkening skin. ..
.. how to i do when the other one don’t: pretend down is up and up is down. assume a frown is just a smile waiting to turn. kern yourself too closely to the to the end of the alphabet … Continue reading
.. Tilt it sideways, skewed from center. Give it limbs, sun, shade. Hold the way the light attaches to skin on your hungry tongue, soon flung to the indifference of breeze. It’s a young girl in a flirty skirt, an … Continue reading
. Shall we wish ourselves sane? Take my hand, perhaps there’s another day just around the corner. Didn’t I warn you this cold stone was a lonely place? I’ve got one more round of ro sham beaux that says tomorrow’s … Continue reading
, the fake flavor of this part-pink lady drink makes you a cheap date. Don’t you hate the way the strobe lights fight your face? Wisdom equals work. Start your engines. That’s a perfect match. (Let’s watch it burn.) ……….Bottom’s … Continue reading