Fiction

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.

Short Story

A New World

  While he sleeps I catalogue his body. When he is awake I keep my distance. While he dreams I touch and map in a

Poetry

Home No More

I miss your coffee-covered breath, Early in the morning. It made me hungrier than death For a thrill without a warning. I miss your sweet

Short Story

Paper Boat

Three walls of the room are made of tin, but on the fourth side a polished floor opens, running like fabric into curtains of lace,

Short Story

Ride the Peter Pan

There were times when it seemed like all the beauty was sucked out of my life. This was one of them. It was cold and

Short Story

The Solution

  I talk to myself. I have to. No one else will listen. No one else understands. Even if they did, I wouldn’t dare expose