Translucence
The print man is my friend. We have whispered conversations about paper stock over the phone. He speaks with a lisp. I’ve never seen…
Read More
small victories
for Daisy I kissed your face, and it tasted good until it didn’t. Or, I wasn’t tasting it any more, so it tasted…
Read More
the line on the map is a fleshy pink
There’s this guy on the metro, rolling his eyes like back to the white, like he could be dead any minute now. And he’s…
Read More