Tag Archives: the past


Where was I then, or better yet, who? All night long I listen to the edges of old photographs brushing against the delicate contours of memory, and thank god for windows and doors. #30 from Untitled Film Poems Image by … Continue reading

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Gone Again

Under a sunstreaked tree, rough bark against skin, texture of a stolen kiss— She was touched, and saddened too, that these days it was her ghost who did most of her living for her, amidst the brackish ebb and flow … Continue reading

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Confessions at the End of the Tunnel

   It was the very end of our relationship, when it was past the point of ever being good again.  We both knew it but neither one of us wanted to say it, because that would mean letting go and … Continue reading

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This could be titled John Biscello Doesn’t Live Here Anymore, could be titled Romancing the Ghosts, or perhaps no title at all, just a flickering reminiscence trapped in a photo snapped by a childhood friend who swears that he occasionally … Continue reading

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