I will admit that the rain distracts me. Continue reading
Monthly Archives: November 2012
Day 86 of 35
I burn until I peel, offering my skin to the sun, asking that she let the tomatoes ripen on the vine before she splits them in the heat. Continue reading
Day 85 of 35
Mourning I went out into the mud and rain to watch stalled horses, nervous and full of heat, neigh and kick at thunder until the storm passed, and the ghost was given. Continue reading
Day 84 of 35
Too awful a day Continue reading
Love / poetry / Poetry / Uncategorized / Writing
Day 83 of 35
Sometimes I pretend there was moonlight, ample. That your body was lit bright. That my eyes closed with no other choice. On other nights, I remember that it was dark. That there were no streetlights. That the stars, smothered by the clouds, could not see us, and all we had was touch. Continue reading
Day 82 of 35
There is a sound I can’t identify, past the fall of waves beyond the muttering wind. Continue reading
Day 81 of 35
That’s all there is to it. Continue reading
Day 80 of 35
Shrimp-colored gladiolas. Butchers’ knives. Bodies displayed in sitting rooms. Continue reading
Day 78 of 35
The strange light of winter spoke in a dialect of dark— extended vowels that rambled on like a highway in New Mexico— threatening to keep the flowers. Continue reading
Day 77 of 35
She had, for years, wanted to walk up to strangers and offer a kidney or her blood. “O negative. Universal,” she wanted to tell them. Continue reading
Untempered Glass 