The world flies by as a cold memory finds me. Very sharp the knife in my abdomen-- perfect cuts-- the blade shouldn't miss. Cold memory's held in the body while the mind slept. While I drifted there were whispers of... Continue Reading →
Living inside my uterus Is a song with many flaws The pulse issues uneven Blood fills and pools Metaphors, The meat of the pain, I can't tip-toe around The silence they represent. Coming to play for the party Is a... Continue Reading →
And paper smelled of pain. The generations of scribbles read together as lost words that couldn't connect the rolling of empty train cars with the people that had to empty them. Who owns letting paper turn to ash? Perhaps us... Continue Reading →
Cat Over Clock 