Tag Archives: porchlight

Tryst

The last time I fornicated with an angel my porchlights blew and we became tranluscent sheets of merger rising above a glassy pool of chartreuse reflecting in cursive the lighted gist of our holy remains. God, I’m open to another … Continue reading

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Porchlight

The porchlight in one’s personal heaven is always on, solace through staid aureole for orphans wandering heartsick in the dark.  

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