Fiction
Violets Are Blue
Bending at the knees, Camilla crouched down to view the lipsticks on the lowest shelf of the drug store cosmetic aisle. The hem of her black dress grazed the linoleum floor as her fingers hovered over the edge of the shelf.
Persistence, Memory, Time
Have you ever met someone who makes you question everything you’ve ever wanted?
Where’s Nana?
She’s lighting a cigarette. The first time pops lost his words, I found her between the legs of a railway, staring at the ocean of
Undressing the Sky
In love with dismal days, he told me why: Won by dimensions, his green eyes caress Big bosomed clouds. Suggestiveness of haze Conjures up Milky
Edit
Can’t you let the film spool unseen on the stained floor? Its frames forever static as my fingers resplice our hands. Let my battalions of
Ca’Venezia: Your Voice
Your voice alights on my armhair, a whiff of cigar smoke— caramel, and ghostly— “Cities die; let them.” Black thing to say. I patter