Your eyes flickered like emerald lanterns at twilight. I held your hands as you invisibly slumped into my embrace. You said all the words I didn't know I wanted or needed to hear until the moment they came cascading out of your mouth. That I have made a difference in your life, that you would miss me if I died in my sleep. You finally told me ( Read more... )

What's real, what's true? What can be believed and trusted to be accurate and applicable a minute from now, a week from now ( Read more... )

Sweet words, always with the sweet words. It takes no effort at all to believe the smiles that light up the page and the sidewalks. But are they too sweet to be trusted? Are they too kind for these weary eyes and ears? Have I heaved too much breath and mitochondrial gold into this equation that doesn't or can't balance ( Read more... )

Onto the next storybook and into its pages so blue and white and ebony inside. My bones crunch and tank into the basement of the mausoleum. And I can't see my hands in front of my face. And I am choking from my own fingers.

You skip your morning classes and sit next to me on a bench as I watch the ducks try to open canisters of Pringles. You say you won't be missed and I'm not so willing to buy into that self-effacement you do so seamlessly off your cuff like it's but a few water droplets that won't be missed. Come rain, come sun, come all the sands of the Sahara ( Read more... )

Sensational, so iridescent and frivolous. It must be, it has to be, where is this road taking me? Where are the stars shining now? Though the dirt is smoother than yesteryear and the wind isn't bludgeoning me in the face with blunt edges and planes, the acrid smoke from days-gone-by still permeate through the atmosphere ( Read more... )

This cycle must have a breaking point, or at least a slowing down point ( Read more... )

If there were a right time, a right face, a proper way to stand or fidget, I would put them out there on the table. I'd tell you your enthusiasm is oppressive in this summering winter heat. You'd see unprovoked recommendations for adventures and scripts makes a person fly for the door ( Read more... )

The villagers had tried to put the outsider's head back onto her neck. Their best seamstresses and surgeons were able to reattach nerve endings and reconnect blood vessels but the outsider wasn't the same as she had been when she'd first come into town ( Read more... )

You were holding a bag of strawberry creme puffs, the special edition bite-sized kind that supposedly stopped being manufactured a year ago. When you noticed me standing still and pointing at the bag, I looked up and opened my mouth to ask how on Gaia's green pastures do you have such small strawberry creme puffs ( Read more... )