He gives me flowers before he kisses me, blue flowers and a blue kiss. I don’t know why I let him do it. I am not interested in him in that way, not any longer, or in any way actually. Perhaps he has put something in my tea, a powder dissolved from the flowers he […]
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Dreams of Great Import
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The Cartography of DesireI started to write about this: The rain, pouring like a waterfall. Me in the yard, wearing nothing but a red sweater, sodden and heavy, leaving one shoulder bare and me naked below the waist. You on the porch, dry hands on the wooden railing, unable to look away. I’m cold in the wet […]
Without FocusDevURLSome nights, here alone in my house, the words I want to write flit about like moths at a bare bulb, and all I need do is reach my hand out and grab them. This is not one of those nights. I phone Nikola, wondering if he will be awake at two in the morning. […]
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