Fiction

Fiction

Secondary Colors

June 1st Julia is dreaming. She’s always dreaming. Frothy ocean waves roll over her fingers as they sink into the sand, lifting her up into

Fiction

What I Can No Longer See

“I’m thankful I’m not a horse,” Marla says, as she reaches for the saltine sleeve inside her tote bag.

Poetry

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

Poetry

The Day of Our Meeting

I dreamed of the day, In the dead of winter, A dreary day, When I’d step off the train And see you there- The day

Poetry

Cold Lights

Outside my window there is steam
and there are lights in a skyscraper
where people sit at their desks
and the lights let them work.