my quiet builds within my hallowed silenceit is deafening the song of sorrowimbued with sadness my dark utters hushed whispersserenading my bleak feelingscaptivated by the melancholyin the shadows I waitthey collect around mebecoming one with my lightuntil every drop...

A strange pattern forwriting has cameto me lately.The skeletons ofpoems form when Ilie down for a nap.Sleep always calls,and bones want todance and grow skin.Lilacs bloom, and I feelthe inner thigh ofeternity, soft and wet.I can't get any rest.I...

             “Ten years ago when her husband diedThe desire for sex granny also let ride,            “Happening at fifty-three and now sixty-threeHer pussy was only touched when she had to wash or pee,            “One night trying to find her cable...