Jeanmarie Flaherty : Writing

The Way He Caters to My Skin.

The Way He Caters to My Skin.

A Poem by Jeanmarie Flaherty


There's nothing behind his voice... hollow and deep, eyes are missing here... he's making love to my masochism,..
The Abscence of Color in the Blue of His Pretty Eyes.

The Abscence of Color in the Blue of His Pretty Ey..

A Poem by Jeanmarie Flaherty


He's looking pretty... The palms of his hands are stained with this side of heaven the abscence of sunsets, he's blue with the moon... and he's lo..
How to Reason with Myself in This Unreasonable Snow-Filled Air.

How to Reason with Myself in This Unreasonable Sno..

A Story by Jeanmarie Flaherty


There's nothing. Still, nothing is something if you calculate it properly, it's vast, ten miles wider than the sky, seventy-six f..
A Play on Jealousy, Depicting the Shape of His Teeth.

A Play on Jealousy, Depicting the Shape of His Tee..

A Poem by Jeanmarie Flaherty


His teeth bruise ever so slightly where my skin reaches shoulders and hair dares not speak... His arms, fold, like legs in he..
Oddly Enough, I've Bent My Mind Backwards, Into Him.

Oddly Enough, I\'ve Bent My Mind Backwards, Into H..

A Poem by Jeanmarie Flaherty


He's apparently... not.all.there. I'm losing something delicious, I'm locked in Wonderland and these doors are insecure..
He's There, Somehow, Biting Through the Whispers of Dreams.

He\'s There, Somehow, Biting Through the Whispers ..

A Poem by Jeanmarie Flaherty


I know he's been there Somewhere in between the palm of my hand and the unwritten corners of last week... I know he's seen me, t..
An Attempt to Capture the Laziness of Time.

An Attempt to Capture the Laziness of Time.

A Story by Jeanmarie Flaherty


The sun is dying, she's falling, I'm content in his arms this month, like the delicious curling of a kitten stretching out in a July afternoon windo..
This Northern Sky is Drenching Us and I Fear I've Forgotten My Name.

This Northern Sky is Drenching Us and I Fear I\'ve..

A Poem by Jeanmarie Flaherty


My name has been forgotten since last September, it's falling, decorating doorways and digging splinters into the soles of my feet.... ..
How Swollen Lips Become When Confessions Never Fall.

How Swollen Lips Become When Confessions Never Fal..

A Poem by Jeanmarie Flaherty


Please No CSS I bit my tongue, allowing for the injury of confessions, warped and broken, they sat warily on my bottom lip. Trembling..
A Eulogy for the Dreams that Rain Upside Down.

A Eulogy for the Dreams that Rain Upside Down.

A Poem by Jeanmarie Flaherty


Past to present tense, yes, that's the way I mean this piece to be written.