When I grow old, I will go to all the flower shows. I will, of course bring a cactus just to piss'em off though. But that's not what it's really for you know. It's a ledger, for all our kisses, our quarrels, our hugs, our fusses. Accounted dearly for keepsakes. And these prickly ones will… Continue reading Radhika
Counting down the year whipering kisses in fear it might not be our year after all but it's never been our year we are 30 and 32 and 43 and a 1/2 they are crafting caskets on our behalf while Betty White still lives on my reticence has passed with the passing year laid out… Continue reading What a happy new year!
You drink cheap rum from the bottle but distilled in a jar suspended in ethereum a love I feel for our invisible children their unisex names. You touch my hands as I shrink into your arms fading into my self previously unknown unfamiliar with all the broken men traversing your soul. You light a match… Continue reading Love & Rum