divide the cities east to west gridlock the country until all that is left are some sad children behind grills and then some thin wired women, these grumpy old men, polishing their stories down to almost-nothings.
Category: jam jar world
note to self.
she hands me a book and i say, i will return this someday (it's a line that people often phrase). i know that i won't, but i will lift her from the margin and the page and return the gift in different ways. i barely recall the tale's name but her hand, her footnotes, her annotation … Continue reading note to self.
smiling and dismayed.
if i can, with a glance, find focus in this disarray, it may be in the raising of the glass that we sip or your eyes as they lift to mine, gazing on your lips smiling and dismayed.


