THIS DESERT WHERE WE DROWNED THE DANCE

  This Desert where We Drowned the Dance Guttural; pertaining to a particular sound at the back of the mouth, there, in that spot not quite reachable, still quite parched. Water; to sprinkle, to moisten. I do this to quench a longing I can’t reach though I cannot hold this liquid just like I couldn’t […]

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THE LIGHT IS TOO LIGHT

  Light leaks like water dripping from the faucet. You called me baby before you really knew me and stopped calling at all, afterwards drip… drip… nothing. Light lingers in quite corners like memories that refuse to flicker, not acknowledging that the night has fallen. We pour over each other like liquid on a perched […]

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RESILIENT

  Dry earth, its sharp teeth tear through trunks, spines spindle around nature’s tenacity; this rugged rage of rocks that have rolled, boulders are the big bands here spotlight of sandy sun bolts and center stage dawns of desert dust. Dry earth, cutting clouds like carefree-cotton fall apart amid the peak-like pinnacles that places people […]

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A SEAT ON THE TRAIN

  A factory man forged in fights on streets and bars on iron clad nights and a local girl born and raised in longing, loss and dreams unglazed who crash sometimes behind the shades to drink, to fuck, to drop their blades on this desert town of dirt and dust, of cactus, crows and mounting […]

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LIGHT IS TOO LIGHT

  Light leaks like water dripping from the faucet You called me baby before you really knew me and stopped calling at all, afterwards Drip… Drip… Nothing. Light lingers in quite corners like memories that refuse to flicker, not acknowledging that the night has fallen. We pour over each other like liquid on a perched […]

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