I am a compulsive liar and a saint, below a bed of umber sleep and roses. The lush green fields sleep but roses don’t, I’ve thought about the heavy weight of hunger. I think about the heavy weight of hunger, beyond veins and roots tethering. Barefoot, I walk where… Read more“A reverie of sorts and nothing more”
I won’t mention the shadows that speak of war or bones that ache as they are made to do so, nor will I attempt to describe what goes on behind these walls, twilight is a perfect shade of periwinkle blue outside, it uses gestures to communicate; but… Read more“Women of Algiers in their Apartment”
I honestly have no words left to describe, and yet describe I must. It is central core; it is both early understanding and conflict, I am almost certain it is essential, for every breath taken away after mouthing his name says the same, he consists of grey gardens… Read more“In retrospect”
If you recall, we have met before; somewhere between brittle earth etched with longing and pretty words serving as disguise the minute the sky darkens, everything that takes place feels as though it’s unexpected, that is, until earthiness emanates and enthralls the mind, allow me to introduce myself, I have… Read more“Petrichor”
