She could no more fill it with food and drink than one can fill an entire living-room with only memories of the departed.
Hide and Seek
Poem #143
A Giant in the Sun
Cloud Gates
She was becoming translucent, only a faint outline remained barely strong enough to hold in the memories.
Poem #9
Six Word Story: “Wicked”
My entry for this week's Six Word Story Challenge, hosted by Sometimes Stellar Storyteller.
I only see her at night.
Her Secret Drawer
What are some of your secret childhood memories?
Show Don’t Tell
"No poem was ever written by a drinker of water." – Homer
On Writing Hungry
What are your writing rituals and habits?
Are we more than what people call us?
The Bibliophile
To walk into his den was to walk into his deviant mind...
Strangers No More
A Letter to Paris
In the beginning, many of our days were spent in comfortable silence because I didn’t speak your language and although you spoke mine, you refused to indulge me.
Time
Mourning Dew
The Promise of Sex
A Feather's Touch
Last Night’s Light
The night began with her scent, faint and distant. Then it surrounded me as I stood in its birthplace.
A New Life
I look nothing like myself these days: thinner, darker, less American.
