Stories tagged forgiveness

The Awakening

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Aura arrives with the incense and her mysteries. Her scent of wet earth, and crushed flowers, a touch of Jasmine and Frankincense. Her dark hands passing over my body, her warmth. A whisper. A prayer.

Bedbugs

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I'm in awe of her frankness, how she takes my breath away, how I wish to rush off with her to a splendid hideaway where only the two of us touch the grape-stained mountains and the cerulean sea, wild blades of grass quivering with the breeze. Sometimes th

Without Consent

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You never thought you were capable of rape.

Fallen

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a humming fluorescent martyr saving scratch off souls seated at the right hand of a sputtering neon star

The Fable of the Puddletree

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Jerrod learns late in life that forgiveness is a good thing to learn early.

dovespeak

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If, for just a crystal moment, you will submit to being a dove...

white church

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Politically, legally, physically, we're all shit out of luck.

Being Boring

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"Oh jeez," I say, "and we were having so much fun."

Forgiveness In Strokes

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He sat on the seat furthest away and could not look me in the eye. Nor could he even glance in my general direction. He put one leg over the other and tried to speak. He shifted his weight. He crossed his arms across his board chest. He…

Freeing Annabel Lee

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It drifted into the sea, I say, when you ask me about home. You’ve only known me for a few moments, so you’re not sure how to gauge me. You laugh, and make an Annabel Lee reference. The English teach in me wants to hug you. The New Jersey in me wants

Settling

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But she knew what she would find. She knew it all the moment she felt the sticky fingerprints behind the slat of her old oak slay bed. The fingerprints that would only be left from a person grabbing it from behind their head. The fingerprints that she

Before a Suicide

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the things that harm you

“poems with no lilies or moons / and no love affairs about to fail.” Garcia-Lorca

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The Earth is made of blood.

Who's Chasing You?

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“Who’s chasing you?”. When the answer is ‘no one’, it’s best to drive away, like you would from a forgettable Oregon town or someone who can’t love you more than they hate themselves.

Inconsequential

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I write poems as if language matters.