Stations of the Cross of a Ghostly LoveInitial Rubric:Here begins the procession of ghostly love,where each station is absence,each absence is revelation.A letter erected on beams and wind,made of broken tiles and nocturnal breaths.To love is the echo of...

I likemy shoes; they arethe only pairI have.I've walked miles inthem.They havegot me around for years.My shoes arefalling apart.They should havequit on me a longtime ago.Strangely enough,people complimentme on them.They don't seethat the soles areworn thin, or that theysmell...

The capuccino is sourThe cigarette does not feel goodThe day feeld a series of repeated tasksBoringWhat I am lazy to doIt is a rainy november dayAnd I lack motivationPut me to sleep.