me – and you

Here lie the bones of our beginning. No flesh pressed around them, no strained muscle or arched, aching nerve asking to be felt, to be seen. Just bones, bare. A scattering of calcified possibility, clean and cold, with no cracks through. Through. The only way out is through they say, but sometimes the ending happens tooContinue reading “me – and you”

What does the body remember …

What does the body remember of another? What memory sits at the tip of the tongue, ready to burst? Does desire constantly swim in the veins, little pieces of longing that warm the blood and rise to the surface at the slightest provocation? Do they reconstruct and orient the desire toward that which we cannotContinue reading “What does the body remember …”

The dream is always the same.

The dream is always the same. It is always about reach, about skin and breath and compacted air, how any distance between you pulses with the memory of touch. There is a softness to the desire, and a recognition, because in dreams it is about return, about visiting the caves of your sub-conscious and finding the little piecesContinue reading “The dream is always the same.”