Reminded myself not to talk to you. Not even to look. I’m always reminded that I am not Swayze – and you are not a ghost. That this is happening now. That we are not some formless clay spinning on a wheel waiting to be touched. When & how did we end up this way? […]
My writing adorns the walls of this ridiculous, worn-down circus tent. Fitting, that I’ve mastered both walking the tightrope and cracking the whip. I jump, through flaming hoops I set alight. I am the elephant, the seventh clown stuffed into a clown-car. A churlish charade. Watch. This is the part where I shoot down all the tin-cans and pick the giant […]
“Life is a lot more fragile than we think. So you should treat others in a way that leaves no regrets. Fairly, and if possible, sincerely.” ― Haruki Murakami, Dance Dance Dance Gentle, now. Unfold these shoulders: feel the creases, smooth them out, slowly. Skin meets skin: a tender joining of fragile things. Careful folds, […]
where was the world…
Last night, I dreamt of an old friend picking up smoking, cigarettes with the look of pencils (because she wanted to be a teacher, you see). I dreamt of people I did not know. Last night, I dreamt, aside from her smoking lead, of a table mired in the middle of nowhere, all of us seated: […]
Observe. Spit in his face, and he turns the other cheek. This man who is not even a doormat. A doormat is welcoming, even when stepped on. He is but the puddle you step over: shallow, dirty, unwanted, cold. Once, a part of something greater.