after nights drenched in moonlightwe look at each other sidewaysgauging depths, monitoring losseswhen i slide off the bed wrapped in sheetswhy do you ..
i'm dreaming, as always, of bridgesonce, when I was maybe ten,my mother dragged me along to meet a friendwho was staying overnight in miamithe appropr..
I thought to tell you:you should write about your mother dying.About the slow, slippery event of it. How every possible solution slipped from your fin..
The fog on the glassreminds meblinds meThe ice on the rimmeltsat my touchThe warmth of your breathbeguiles meriles meThe frost on my heartdissolvesit'..