1007 2 1
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There’s an account of roasting inward, holding myself like a rock inflamed, my inward joy rotting my veins. How was I supposed to go on loving anything after you? Like a pigeon hated at home, awaiting your passionate kisses? Knowing how your classical k
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225128
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I hear voices through the open window at night which sound like, but are not, the voices of people I know.
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117221
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For the residents of Oak Morrow, entropy is an art form. They break their own windows and crash their cars into their living rooms. Grannies and pets can usually scoot out of the way before they’re crushed under the juggernaut of creativity.
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18731
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“Land ahoy!” “Breakers ahead!” Panicked shouts from the deck above meant nothing to me. Stripped of pride, dignity, warm clothes and…
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1181413
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Close to a dying fire sat Mason, moving only his eyes.
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70410
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I was meant to stroke, touch, handle the union of love, the egg, the ova with desire. Hurling the self forward so you could handle the semi-virgin loaf with your four flowered gloves, your soft kid gloves, and deprive the night, thank God, of its natural
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75800
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I’ll widen a wing out of myself, if you want. I’ll wash out the more volatile salts of man’s innate salt. I’ll awaken the milky sense the night sky’s made of, under Van Gogh’s heaven. Use the same salt wind sailing over all origin, the rim of the cup an
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167141
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"Make a wish," she whispered.
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108020
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the smell of the small cedar chips burning in the fireplace
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99311
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She felt the ants crawling across her arms, felt them digging into her flesh. The needle was still attached to her flesh, bruises lined along the stretch of skin. Her body convulsed until she slipped into slumber. The following morning she could no longer continue her self…
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235117
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Mario was a dafty, a pure numpty, and he didn't have a clue what he was doing. 1. Tube (noun) Scottish slang for idiot. I knew from previous shifts that my thighs would hurt as if I'd done the Grand …
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88900
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Like large drops of rain on the active lap of earth, I heard myself falling all around the vacant spaces where you had once been. Emptying myself with dissolution, trying to alter the essence, to begin again where we had left off, as if to wind string b
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3714622
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5710
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...the squawking of the seagulls orchestrated my theme music.
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4600
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In the hunt for one woman in whom the lightning fell off the purple light, dazzling all who were around her – during that hunt, the night you sang may have lived in her all these years. May live in her still, her mouth shaped like the letter triangular,
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