Stories tagged kiss

The Sea of Dreams

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When I wake, I wonderwhat leaves the smile haunting my lips.There is only a ghostly remnant of your eyes, your touch, your kiss. Now I long for the Sea of Dreams,but my body is here imprisoned.Awake, I cannot reach you.The ship has departed; the tides have…


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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

Wednesday Night Aliens

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The old-timers at the Working Man’s Club wear a sheen of indifference every Wednesday night. Beneath the wafting, cresting mountains of burning cigarettes smoke, the train-track rattle of dominoes chipping at the dark wood tables in the corner, the consta

Down Hawkling Street.

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Down Hawkling Street, The shadows have come and gone The bar, torn apart from the cold and lonely bullets The lights, they stay awake No more kisses She waits for the empty company A shallow visitor to use and abuse As she walks, they…

The Real Story Behind The Lipstick On Obama's Shirt

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The lipstick on your collar walked up the steps and through the front door, without a key. Her smile was hypnotically red and bountiful. The guards standing around didn't dare frisk her for weapons, her lips were weapon enough.

The Other Purpose of a Raincoat

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How long does it take to know someone?

The Night

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her parents were gone they sat on the love seat side by side saying nothing the longest time

The Spill.

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That dude takes method-acting to a whole new level. Ever seen a teenager bust a homeless man’s nose to understand a role?

Lovemaking For People Who Talk During Movies

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“We don’t need to kiss.” I say coyly, morphing the angles of my body to look cute, irresistible. It would be easier if I’d brushed my hair. “Pretend I’m a prostitute.” I instruct, ”They don’t kiss their clients.” It’s a reference I’ve made before, but not

Before It Ended

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its fire wet language singing in my mouth.

The Minotaur

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I have tried to sew my eyes shut, and not see, but vision is the constant dog, looking up to be stroked.


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you hear the knell of kindness long before its cathedral voices -- a recessional -- barters better times.

The Atheist of Mirrors

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Don't mistake my eyes for supplication. My invisibility is your nightmare.