He writes ten pages to arrive at a single punchline. Who needs that much setup?
Who has time?
We have never lost anything we truly needed.
We have never felt full eating only air.
Tag Archives: poem
Constellations
My fingers move like needle points, spun between the poles of
Clavicle and calves. Invisible lines of magnetism,
Your freckles are my guides. By nights these constellations, traced,
Become my map and sky: Polaris, and the star charts — a universe laid bare.
Team Ghost Collection
You’ve joined my collection of ghosts. Continue reading
kitchen of an almost-lover
We hunger, knead the dough we want to eat: Continue reading
Overstayed
Where the wind blew pine needles across the roof. Scritch, scritch.
I didn’t know it would be this long.
I never would’ve let the dog out.
Never would’ve kissed you under the wolf moon. They say it’s cursed. Now we know.
Scritch. Continue reading
The Wordsy 
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