Tag Archives: Writing
Your nails still refuse to drag along my skin. Snow leopard. You… Your nails retracted, tongue curled, folded. Padding away into a mountains dark crevices. Where I, kokburu player, goat tosser extraordinaire, mad skier across Tuvan skies, lasso in hand and elk … Continue reading
I do not know which is worse. Finding a personal, loving letter from someone you cannot seem to remember. Or Finding a personal, loving letter from someone you cannot seem to forget.
Boom, then sounds like shattering glass, fragments of glass, plinking sounds carried on the wind. Boom. Agitated, the city, men with guns rummaging around yards, snipers on rooftop, jumbles of green, black, blue. Shooting. Shooting past walls, reason resistance. Men … Continue reading
Horus on the beach, bank of the Nile. Chatting up a slumming Sumerian spring spirit. Summer no time for vengeance, just seeding. Tony making time with Cleo, Bob drunk, beating Alice again. The old postman moaning “howdy”. Passing secrets on … Continue reading
d’Artagnan… is restless. Once, he wandered onstage, admired Cyrano’s quick blade and cutting wit. Then found a musket ball at Maastricht, and wandered off. Some say mothballed at Wolder, others wandering the New World, mayhap Boston’s where he found his … Continue reading
the forests curved path your warm breath mixing with mine kiss in dappled light