“I think of her sometimes, on nights like this, when my shirt is low and the wind kisses my chest as greedy eyes stare. They don’t know there is nothing there anymore. I ate her years ago, splitting the tough skin with my front teeth to reach the fruit inside. But tonight, here, with the moon hiding behind low, yellow clouds, Beautiful Girl walks with me.”
Read Moreyour eyes wander to their new leaves
curling at the sky -
110 emblazoned to the left of the screen,
you search for truth in their cycles but
Read MoreIf time is an illusion, then so are memories.
Read More