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

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

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,

Poetry

When You Grow Up

I’d rather be a collapsed flower drenched in rainwater; succumbed to the well where wishes weld winning whims. though not alone as the barren heart