Her hands were very beautiful, but coarse. She had worked on engines with those hands, picked apples, played a flute, manual labor and cleaning. They were every bit a woman’s hands, supple, but formidable. I look at my hands. They are like hers, but softer. I was the sheltered girl, like Repunzel, only the poor version. I was locked in the car, or ( Read more... )

i'm falling for the fall. the cold crept in, sudden, forcing me to stay longer under the covers; a few minutes more, a few more hours; i kept dreaming about waking up and getting ready, but i emerged into the 65 degree frost at about 2pm, only because i should ( Read more... )

i cannot shake the feeling that there is a wound where he, she, and he touched me, and did not return.

my body will not forget each scent, slide, and impact.