Month: June 2014

We were wed by a snowman. One must have a mind of winter, I said. And a heart of glass, you sang. We drank icicles, got pretty crystallized. Walk in my footsteps, I slurred. That’s not where the heat is,

permission better hiding places why you didn’t drown or get pinned between two cars all those times you could have why rivers still look like so much heaven some days a man who can fix you, who knows the quiet

i am thinking of a color. it is not white or black. it is not the color of your eyes. i am thinking of the shade it makes in autumn, the sun shrinking days. the way the world stands on

lives under polished rocks her regrets iridescent a buzzer no one can bear to answer eats nothing but hours burns fireflies at both ends turns ladybugs to tramps bites flailing arms flies through silver screens transparent flutters antennae like trigger-fingers

his laughter was the kind that bit the throat, gently at first as delight can be a cruel disguise, turned inside out for the egotistical thrill. notice how the lips curl, the lion’s tooth a proud mean. search his eyes

The last time that the world ended, I was there We rushed in like Angels They let me be an angel, the last time that the world ended. It was the worst storm, The strongest twister, The biggest fire, The

Do you tattoo scripture on your tongue or stack each verse on the shelves of your spine? There’s a difference. At the bus station, a man carries a sign that reads: “The Kingdom is coming soon Repent.” Waiting not far

She wasn’t surprised that morning by the stove, but circled, expecting I might creak the door towards her. Perhaps she’d crawl to wedge herself between the pots and lids for safety’s sake to hide there for its warmth She didn’t

Day in Middle School valentina cano She’s in a room with sightless walls. Papers whisper in the man’s hands, drowning her in questions that dangle like snapped necklaces. Her hands want to pry her knees open and let her curling