Tag Archives: ache
It’s strange how you can miss someone you’ve never met as if the ache bears a secret history exclusive to its own sense of mystery and rivet. Advertisements
It could be like this. Early morning, light milkpooling at the edges of your bed, dawnfrost bleaching your bare feet and subtly wriggling toes softly phantom, and I follow the erogenous ghost past your shins, to the rounded pate of … Continue reading
Kiss my shame, she said, the moistened outlet to my sealed-in history, run your tongue, but gentle now, gentle, over my heart-shaped booboo, make it sing, as if the moon, a secret maestro, was drawing the most beautiful notes from … Continue reading
How quickly we forget the nearness of grief, and remember, with rated thorns, a past nettled to braid.