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  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    After the fall of the empire; We went singing to the edge of the ocean in sheets of morning fog, and warmed our souls and our feet on the sun-baked sand. But the tide was always leaving us, pulling away our desires and scattering our thoughts like hollow shells washed on the beach. After the f...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    A house is a house is a house is a place to sleep at night. My parents built their house of broken bibles – not the poetry inside but just the shallow, glossy bindings like plates of insect armor on the walls; so that no matter where they stood, their hands could reach the holy leather, ...
  • Fiction > All Fiction
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    If someone had stumbled upon her that day, curled into herself and hiding from reality, that person might have noticed that Charlotte cried like a grown-up. Her head rested on her knee, soaking a faded blue skirt, but her face was smooth and composed. As tears made silent rivers on her cheeks, she d...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I want to write a poem for you as lovely as the sunset on our eyelids, when we fell asleep on the dew stained grass with phrases more exquisite than the pink inside of a seashell, and the way it is delivered to our feet on the whim of the moon. I want my poem to resonate like the whis...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I had a wicker basket with a dainty little handle, and lining made of checkered cloth the color of my cheeks. I filled my wicker basket up with secrets and with treasures; yes, I filled my basket (to the top!) with minutes, days, and weeks. I kept those precious moments for as long ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I’d like to buy an apartment in Paris, with a miniature balcony and a table for two. Flowers would bloom in all of the windows, and you’d be with me, and I’d be with you. Each morning we’d ride, on our old-fashioned bikes, to our favorite café down the street from our home. Wit...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    A child sits on the front steps of his house, watching the world sleep. His shoes are scuffed, and wet snow seeps through the seat of his trousers. A dragon’s breath shows silver in the dark. Each star could be it’s own universe; just bright enough to conquer the night, and distant enough ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I can see that you have built a make-shift shelter, in the dusty glare of an imitation sun. With the heat, and the silence of responsibility as your roof, and walls of spider-web glass; the hope that it will all work out. Can I do the same? I know that you have made your home where no one...

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