Smidgens
She had her voice and it was buried deep inside in a place so sacred, so lonely. Only occasional tears that sprung up within the course of a life could witness it in raw form. When she sang, she camouflaged it with a myriad… Continue Reading “Her Voice”
It’s raining. “This is a warm rain, an uncommon rain. It feels too nice and the sidewalks don’t like it. It gets into their cracks, swelling, expanding, like my blood feels when a warm drop hits my arm.” “Your eyes look so worried when… Continue Reading “Tlaloc Speaks to his Lover.”
Inside the blue melody, exists The longing that exudes from us. Proves, we are all dynamics Ingrained in buzzed-out bodies. With arms flying alive Reaching for sound Feet uncontrollable, legs alien Outside ourselves, always, as we Feel the shake, when We cry—with the dance… Continue Reading “Primary Voice”
This town is not mine. Its sidewalks— as grey as they Have ever been. The evaporating rain—still the same. But when I walk the streets I peer into shops As if they are spaceships Newly landed—and I fear Walking into one of them Will… Continue Reading “Spaceship Shops”
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