When I love you it smells like the rain hitting a hot pavement in May. It hurts not like caterpillars breaking their toes but because I can't stroke...
If April is the cruelest month what title fits for March? The rains have soaked the struggling sun, the winds have blown the arch. The hopeful seeds...
You craved her words, your tongue begging to bend itself around them as they formed from the melt of the ink, curving onto the clearest of pages; snakes seducing your soul
You did not ask to enter my life. You arrived & I invited you in. Your eyes on the doorstep immediately burnt my face as the cigarette you held in your hand burnt your lungs; you