when i die, my flesh will rot into the blue of your eyes, and my finger bones will clamp onto the dirt- the way your warmth held my hand in life and m...Read more

the man in front of me is animal and angry and loud and harsh he is irate, drunk on frustration, stumbling for me in his haze of red mist- desperate...Read more

bricks of fragile shard, tiny house of porcelain and glass, children of gentle china, there is silence in our tiny glass house, then laughter bounce...Read more