POLITICALLY CORRECT
Who may tell her story? Who has earned the right? What if she’s come and gone? Has no tongue, no eyes, no hands? Must one wear her skin,...
Who may tell her story? Who has earned the right? What if she’s come and gone? Has no tongue, no eyes, no hands? Must one wear her skin,...
the sultry ode composed of smashed teeth, blood stained glass, hammer-fist dents, ready to turn public spaces into choral asylums, turn...
maybe you will want to love another more than you could love me. so i ask of you, please do not let her name be written at the end of your...
Losing my identity was not in our plan. Mary and I came to the big city to celebrate finishing our books—my psychological thriller and...
What love I’ve known I found on knees, by chance between iniquities. Fingers confined a backwards prayer, cutaneous chants without my...
A cigarette bowed from my lips, burnt on one side as I sucked, to even embers. The alley painted with ‘fuck you’ was where I went with...
blindfolded adrift on a wave of lust shameless consumption grows strong in my desert that turned to dust slinking past watchful eyes...
I do not know if I should cut my hair. It is very long. Some people call it obscenely long. It’s the color of wheat, and very often air...