I don’t fill the room I’m in, my presence slips quite thin between the walls, behind a chair, outside in the air; the vacuum I exist between pushes me both ways, to pop the empty bubble, to see what isn’t there. Is there a name for the space between two slabs of concrete block? That’s the way it’s always been, I’m a shadow drowned in … Continue reading I Don’t Fill The Room I’m In
In all the nights you danced with me In the spins you laced with fire The music in your swaying hips The rhythm spilling from your eyes Another song, another dance Another tingling-spine romance Your writhing woke my naked lust Your pirouette my sucking breath My fingers strummed your humming lips Your quavering finish I undressed. Continue reading Play Me
They bury their dead in vaults. Long rows of casket-sized holes stacked six bodies high. Mourners shuffle along behind the men struggling beneath the weight, the dead weight, inside the casket. Mostly, they do. Her casket was featherlight, the body inside so nearly weightless it seemed heartless to call it dead weight. The men carrying her body stood ramrod straight, as men are wont to do … Continue reading The Wedding Band
If I don’t miss a part of you you are not apart from me. Continue reading I Can’t Breathe When You Are Away
Writers Envy 