256 29 20
|
She aches for the wrong reasons.
|
96810
|
The view from the tenth floor of Ramses Hilton hotel was depressing. A restless crowd undulated between the wrecks of tanks and armored cars.
JOURNALIST: Hey! I’m dying here, and you admire the views?
|
105400
|
the warnings we fear are the selfsame ones of ourselves
of our vertical need to be first to the heights redoubling
its intractable charm of production— our inheritance.
|
7351
|
Another miracle is that the cake was a success, even without buttercream frosting. Yes, it was Swiss chocolate. It still is Swiss chocolate. The cake is still there. The cake is not gone.
|
40900
|
Not a lovely view
As lovely as it is
|
103600
|
Rosea plays a bohemian plainsong for the cosmonauts among us, while her fuzzy apple hips spit glitter, spin strobes: pink shades of pantyline flicker; lip-licked neon hues scrape strings in B sharp, a gloomy clue.
|
110500
|
Can you see the rut? Can you dig your fingers into the flesh?
|
104300
|
Ships tumble, cars crash, horns gulp water, bombs burst up from the ground in a halo of screams.
|
123262
|
The night is a jelly slosh, a fertile rumble, a rhumba, black and seeping, thick. An arm rises.
|
109120
|
She dips a toothpick in ink, running prick over paper, simply to prove herself wrong.
|
134465
|
“Can I feel it?” he reached his hands out immediately, expecting I’d say yes. I am the type to always say yes, right?
“Sure.” I confirmed, swallowing back my fear of his touch. He didn’t seem himself, like this. I led his hands to my hips and let them
|
62700
|
Conveniently, the vistor had arrived when she was between tasks. It was still difficult for her to believe that it had occurred but she had the tangible proof there in front of her, within reach.
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