Poem #13: Giant Like WolvesI did not know I hadn't experienced Death as an adult until it happened. How can that be? When Death stole my lungs, breathing became...
Poem #12: Gothic HoneyThere is never enough sweetness on the tongues of weapons They walk around march around skip around as if their bitterness won’t kill...
Micro Story #8: Deserving I sit on my living room floor surrounded by clear glasses of water. They sparkle against the show the sunrise plays for us. My mouth goes...