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- Sirena contra gelato at sharepoetry
You dye your hair to strip off sable stripes / like so many prison breaks. / / Stepping from the shower, / leopard spots are drooling down your breasts / and I cannot blame the bottle for spilling. / / You ask me, "How’s it look?" / So I - Edamame Blues at sharepoetry
We ate edamame, / nestling our skins in pools / of salt and spit, sometimes / / sucking them—discarded / saline corsets—hoping / for meat we might’ve missed. / / So when you shucked them in / the trash with an offhand / gesture, noth - Edamame Blues at allpoetry
We ate edamame, / nestling our skins in pools / of salt and spit, sometimes / / sucking them--discarded / saline corsets--hoping / for meat we might've missed. / / So when you spurned them to / the bin wit - Sirena contra gelato at allpoetry
Against a preset biology
you dye your hair to strip off sable stripes - Elephant Sonnet at allpoetry
...the Dumbo-cum-masseuse brand humps
are almost worse than every trunk-smacked sore... - We Love You, Franz (Milujeme Vás, Glenne)
at storywrite
- I'm a Stranger Here Myself at storywrite
- Hagiography at storywrite
A murmur came from the centre of the dark. A stark light flickered on in the room as two men entered.
"Beautiful lines," said the first to speak. - Make Love at storywrite
I remember when you and I first made love. I should say that this was not the first time you and I had “sex”. We’d done it a number of times before. I remember the first time w - Life Among the Concrete at storywrite
I suppose that you wonder where I’m residing. As it happens, I’m shacked up still in rainy Vancouver. Sounds like a song, no? I think - Afterthought
(Play) at storywrite
Afterthought
tragicomedy in 1 act - Description of a Woman at storywrite
Sense of smell invokes sex and intellectualism. She swung her hips beautifully. What roundness; like the curvature of the earth (curves that went on forever). And a midriff tha - The Procrastinat
or at storywrite
The young man stared at the eraser sitting on the desk. He gingerly poked at it with his pencil. He considered it for a moment. He considered its form, its composition, its mea - Mr. Inquisitor at storywrite
As the pair of monstrously oversized soldiers led Shylock Oldsmar to the Inquisitor’s room, he considered what might have led him into this atrocious end.
He could think of - Dearest Olianda at storywrite
Amazing how my memory is so often provoked by music. Or, rather, assaulted by it. Like a great army of rhythm and blues one finds it has a prime efficiency in bashing our heads
