Prose & Poetry

welcome home, starling

you are safe now

Under Construction

Under Construction

The way it feels to break in

new shoes, blistered and

shaking. “I like the way your

pussy tastes.” All you want is

for a house to become a home.

To break down the barriers, to

rip off our eyelids so everyone

can only see our souls. That

touch – soft fingertips grazing

the back of my thigh. Intention,

real intention; hurling ball into

mitt. Beer bottle crashing into

soft flesh, skull protected, but

barely. Question-my-sanity-

one-more-time-UFO-spotting

confusion. Pinch yourself. 

Older

Older

Remember The High

Remember The High