March 12, 2016

Love is a black truck waiting, heels on the dash, on your running board. Love is a drive South, speeding. Love is a white shirt collar, yanked from behind or a shiftless sloth, eyes bright for pulling you out of yourself and into THIS MOMENT. Love is an undertaker. Love is an interred secret, love is a bound kept promise and the slick stare of collusion from...

March 11, 2016

The trick is to reach the door first. Slam it HARD and let it hurt and then nothing hurts after that. You and your long goodbye. You and your reasons. Somewhere in that cold dark state of empty that you left for me, I can make out the crystalline fragments of another life. I pick them up, one by one, and bring them to my well-lit table. This can’t be good, I...

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