the time is coming when i will go back into the photojournalist i feel it like that child of five scary thing behind me falling up dark cellar stairs the time is coming when i will crawl back into him or he will come back into me hey, did i ever tell you how he was already a part […]
Before the photojournalist and I said our final goodbye, he offered me some insight in the form of a story. The story was about a soldier who’d returned from war and found himself unable to feel in the ordinary sense, the result of adapting to such heightened conditions in his years away. He pretended, in the presence […]
so some alarm on his phone chimes and he slides out of bed and into the shower. and before i’ve really thought it through, i’m fleeing my own hotel room. because my love for him is a fucking delicious knife in my heart, and it’s killing me and vitalizing me in the way that I very much […]
The last time I saw the photojournalist, we scheduled a tearing apart. I was so dazed afterwards that it’s been hard to find the words. Even now, with a few months distance, I doubt I’ll be able to do it justice. I wore a blue and gold dress for the occasion. Silk. It was beautiful. […]
He is, quite simply, everything. The entire rest of the adult male population means nothing to her, except perhaps in their contrast. “You’re leaving?” he asks, when he comes back from the bathroom and finds her dressed. “Yes,” she answers, and considers explaining that she prefers to leave with no specific ending, so that she […]
gives me his address and tells me to stop by. says he wants to read to me. yes, read to me. so i do. and he does. among other things. but then he starts in on the questions. he wants to know about my friends, who they are, what they’re like. “you don’t know them,” […]
She takes a deep breath. Because she’s going to have a “proper conversation” with him on Monday. His words. Mingling with hers. And the scheduling of this event sent a shiny cocktail fork careening into her beautiful adult female wiring. Which is just her way of saying she’s grossly unprepared. Thus the deep breath. Because breathing […]
“Take off your clothes.” This is you. The you that wants to be known. And me, upside-down reclined on your couch. Stockinged legs slung over its back. Head hanging off its front. Neck stretched long. In you I delight that I might have finally found someone. Not only smarter, but stronger than I am. Not […]
I’m not sure what it means when something unknown and unexpected feels familiar instead. For all my livelong life, I’ve been propelled by some strange conflagration of nervous energy. A certain run-and-hide dynamic that leads me, time and again, into the arms of safely dangerous men. Which is perhaps where I’ve found myself again, except […]
are we in this together or is the experience my own? she thought to ask, but didn’t aware that the answer would arrive all by itself, as answers do when the mind goes quiet, and so far away life is beautiful, he wanted her to know before he broke into her skull casting light on heretofore […]
my delusions 