Those Midnight Cries

For a minute . . . , just listen
to my voice, to my breath to
my heart
that hitch, that one
right there.

Little Flock

It’s a familiar sight,
sequins glittering
in low-light while
the tango calls slender
hips, slipping into
deliberate lines, open
for…

Late to the Meeting

A short story

I Spill Cider

Poem

She is apple donuts
and cider dusted
with cinnamon kisses
drawn through autumn leaves.

Love and the Red Dress

Late on a chilly Paris Friday afternoon in November, I ducked in a fine art gallery on a whim, on one of the many…

Content to Just Be

Ours
not lives of predictable straight lines
of precise Euclidian grids in uniform geometry
from where we stand
from where we…

Tell Me Again

A poem

Tell me again/where your mind went/when your hands knew exactly where to go

Do You Dare Imagine?

I visualize
you are finally alone reading these words
In my mind you wear red satin
slip into bed, glad for the rare time…