I have 35 stories published in
2 collections on the site.
My stories have been read 48266 times
and 15 of my stories have been cherry picked. 1 of my 71 comments have been voted Great Feedback with a total of 1 vote
We made this poem together, do you remember? I read you a few lines from Octavio Paz, something about your body being the trace of your body, and you said it was one of the saddest poems
A beaded rattle burns in rivers across his chest, fluid lines that stretch and roll towards the colour of the sky, while the desperate drilling sound of ancient oil wealth,
As the night time fades into morning, you can see for a single moment, in the shimmer of distant stars, a subtle trace of things that we will never understand.
JD Salinger once wrote that probably for every man there is at least one city that eventually turns into a girl, but I think the opposite is also true, that a girl can just as easily turn into a city.
I met a tangerine today, it fizzled in my face, sang Mrs. Robinson in Russian, and stormed off into the night, even stranger when you consider the label said she was from Colombia,