Barely rested, but with fevered beats beneath my skin, I drew her supposed aroma in and out and in again and all around this sleeping creature my world contracted and expanded; and I wondered of her dreaming. To pass the time I figured cracks, pretended craters, dead seas, frontiered charts across her ceiling. On … Continue reading Imagined Matins.
i still find her on the sill in the dying birthday flowers - near to faded, pretty in the thirsty vase. her stray hair in the bath, her scrawl on some scrap paper - her receipt, screwed in denim pocket and breathe her for a moment, forever, her surprising sillage as I pass the chair she … Continue reading her ghost.
some things [take a long time to stick] plus some things [take a long time to slip] equals something, something, something... alive to give
one hair of her is adhered to the bathtub tonight & the way it is signed there is a bittersweet sight. i try to find meaning in its pale tangerine, tease pleasure from her signature divine. &, as i soak, i stroke with my finger, her porcelain leaving, into the shape of a heart.
Knott laid the hot bike down gently in the knee-high grass among the night shade of the trees, shy of the flood-lit garage forecourt. He threw his helmet down. He rubbed his head vigorously, unzipped the jacket and took out the empty plastic bottle nested there, threw that down, too. He straddled the five-bar … Continue reading The Night Was Teal.
I surfaced and I breathed again. Turned it all around. And then I held her in my hand. She told me that she’d been learning speed chess, the hard way; she'd finished Falling For Philosophers by Ezra Maas. And on a towel in the bathroom was an impression that appeared to me … Continue reading Speed chess, the hard way
