silhouettes of branches mock the sky, and they block the pinks and oranges from eyes’ view. air is bitter, not cold. it takes breaths away and doesn’t allow you to inhale new. october is a time capsule. its smell is one that is familiar and learned. withering corn...
setae maintenance he calls, and all i hear on his tongue are three syllables, low, sweet, and calm: lo – li – ta. i know he sees me as larva, coquettish nymphet, precluding butterfly wings to pin. no need to clip what has not grown out, like breasts or...
Air sweet like tanghulu, Wind still like metal rods beaten into the ground. Large jagged birds circle above, Their wings glisten in the warm sunlight. An omen. Mothers gather fresh water from the little stream flowing through town, Kids play in their broken shoes and...
When I said goodbye I’m not sure if I truly meant it. It was empty and cold, like a hearth without loving kindling to ignite Our hearth was fantastical and it burned passionately. There wasn’t enough wood in all the forests that could satiate its hunger Our hearth was...
Once, he had been king. He had lazed while others hunted, and still gorged himself on the choice bits of prey. He had snarled, and others obeyed, for his regality spoke for itself. His violent potential had been palpable, but there was no need to unleash tooth or...
the sound of an ever-present lullaby still lingers between the linen curtains- long elegant gowns of a musty off-white swaying through an open windowsill like dancing ghosts waltzing to a melody of windchimes a red cardinal observes from a tree branch sitting, singing...
