Night fog

Soft coffee and he’s up past the hour

when shadows scurry to cold window panes.

Outside, the fog, the night.

He holds cotton in his calloused hands,

the collar and the shoulder drawn like skin;

he wishes to lie his palm

on the nape of a pale neck.

Outside, the fog thick like cotton.

In this room the silence and his breath
are a quiet duet in the ( Read more... )

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The Cardboard box

The box I carry is a reflection of me.

Family photos, a timid stapler and zealous paperclips

Climb to the top.

It’s smooth surface, my lover’s skin.

The corners form a three dimensional map of,

My old neighborhood.

The corrugated lines roll like waves

My children attacked at the beach.

There is Truth

Glued into crests of undulant ( Read more... )

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The Laundromat ( Read more... )

Marzipan ( Read more... )

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So...

does anyone else find "facebook" really annoying?

( Read more... )