Tag Archives: Masks
In a vain attempt, she corseted herself in green wind and cellophane, votive to a thin whip of air. As she lay there, colors emptying to gray, before the round voices and fast hands came, she fell in and saw … Continue reading
In my solitude, I have found myself wanting to shrink even further, into a speck of light, like lint from a star’s navel, or a velvety swath of dark absented from its tailored source; in my solitude, I long to … Continue reading
A marriage of masks, turning silence to warm farce– neither slept soundly.
A mirror, tilted, starkly pooling lovers self-similar turns and views of each other; I am I, you are you, qualifiers blurred and dissolved in a furious crossing of ritual desires.