Out of my skin grow hungry lines of fish-color I eat the seeds too.
It is the third time this year summer aged for her, every night for eighty-four nights golden dreams reincarnate as the hours relive and we count with our fingers with fatigue, not pity. For even as her lips stretch wide she is glistening with the sweat of labor and heart disease, her empty hair […]
This dream is from earlier, but one of my best dreams: I was a warrior about to carry out a mission in the Saharan desert and my mentor offered me a mount. He seemed to have placed food on me because the horse—in fact not at all a horse, but more like a combination of […]
The day Mother’s severed arm sailed across the abandoned train station my hopes grew […]
We remember her by the eyes only, two three dimensional black holes of blood and bad dreams diluted we hold them with our teeth the way she used to hold her tongue with her lips her shrinking lips for she had a way of shortening them, the upper petals diminished in poor taste, I […]