Imagine a lakedeep enough to hold our tearsA place to lay down our losses like wreaths at our feetcommuningto listen as…
Gripping tight to the point of pain;
On a thread how I hangfrom the finger’s sinewmy name nothing but slanghidden in your menu
“Where are you going?” the tree asked the seed as he watched her detach from his…
Laura dropped into the chair by the window, her gaze fixed, unseeing, on the cold, gray garden outside. Her head was pounding, her chest aching. She…