Where He Used to Sit
He’s an assprint in your cushion. Time will inflate you back to your original shape.
Woman in the Universe
I’m invisible, vapor, a motion blur against laser-sharp winter, a soft breeze stinging your cheek numb; I am a ray of sunlight in a bright room, a cell in a…
This Place Called War
Ed never cries. I hear him crying in his bed. Tomorrow he leaves, his day is near; His tears, against everything he said about this place called War, where women…