Vein
This is my monster finding its port, this is the siphoning, the spinning that brings revelation.
Tag: waxing poetic
Scaw-tch-ka!
I made my own meaning in the absent man dreaming himself to his lover, surprising her with a kiss.
If I Knew You From Adam
You can look at these men who say they don’t care about reading, they’re real big on weed, sea and otherwise, and exploring moon caves on their jet-powered mountain bikes…men who want to put a slug of coffee in you while they size you up and hurry back to the primordial ooze in case Botticelli picks them out a good one.
Excalibur
It was too early in the morning for many cars to pass her as she stumbled forward on the small 2-lane road that smelled as though it were Northern. Her nose had not always been better for dodging blows than differentiating the delicate blooms, tasting the terroir between wines, but for now, all she knew was this idea of North of before. Of colder than Then. Of the phone call she had to make now that she was utterly and completely exhausted of all other resources.
Will It Ever End?
It will, of course, but crimeny cripsies, I am danging in the never neverland and my eyes are boiled grapes and I am entirely without the ability to breathe through the nose. Still. I had moments, moments of feeling.