Through the looking glass, lovers caught multiplying, like rabbits in haste. (Photo by Brassai) Advertisements
It gets cold out there, the weight of shadows pressing on her lonely heart. (Photo by Brassai)
Kiss me one last time, a Trinity collapsed– blown smoke and mirrors. (Photo by Brassai)
She wonders, nightly, nothing specific, just stray thoughts leaking old dreams. (Photo by Brassai)
On this side of the mirror, it begins with a light, courtesy kindling promise, yet on the other side, the smoke is already mood-thick and rising, suggesting second lives engaged in the slow burn of mutual arson. (Photo by … Continue reading
The man, to make a living, had plastered hundreds of faces upon walls, but there was something about this one which held him captive. It wasn’t just the stardom of her name, its siren-call, but the sheer magnitude of artifice, … Continue reading
Stalking new language, the happy scribbler tramped through Heaven’s back-roads.
Man, woman, desire, a lonely bike unmounted– mist’s inchoate touch.
A scissored valentine walked into a hard case. The floor, a silent witness, held its tongue. It was one of those Sundays that was acting like a Tuesday. Scrambled eggs, jazz, and a wet book of matches. This wasn’t going … Continue reading
Fade, how the light, contracting Amnesia, tenderly submits by subtly engaging a trick lens.
