Blog, My Poems


  You and your wings have left me paralyzed—the ‘skeltered wings ¬† ¬† ¬†hanging like crows’ nests, indefinitely, fusing together like salt and ice. And she said: Please, do not call me darling anymore. The sky still carried some of the incense left over from a lunar rain, craters full of something other— something that… Read More Hypochondriac