Fiction
In the Round Pen
Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Focus on this moment. How do I feel? What am I seeing? What am I hearing? Him.
Ghost Hunting
I’m hunting for ghosts,In alleys lit by memories,Phantoms of yesterday,Carved out of my mind.What I once held,You me and our dreams,Scraped knees and screeching swings,Pokémon
Treading The Fire
maybe beauty will remain an abstract dirge; a mantra to be ruminated over like a submerged leek becoming tender in warm water. as it seems
Blind Devotion
I jack off to one of the pictures of her I have saved on my computer and after I’m done I send her a message to tell her
Opposable
How do I write with these frantic fingers Left index plugs tearing right aorta Right hand holds closed ripping left ventricle I am hopelessly, entirely
A Photo Found in Black and White
Coincidence did not cause the young man’s cheek to share the curve of mine in his gray, buttered face. His finger-combed hair wet with grease,