The glare of your gold band

For seven years we were lovers. For seven years you shucked me from my skin, shook me loose and left me scrambling for the pieces. Everything I had ever learned receded in the glare of your gold band. I spent years riding my freedom with the curb of this bit. And as your sign flickeredContinue reading “The glare of your gold band”

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 “body, remember”

Love?

There is no lover’s dictionary. No universal definition to the flutters and thuds of the human heart. Love exists in the language of private metaphor, in the image sought through fingers reaching, through eyes slow-closed and teeth on lip. See, I could fill rooms and mouths to understand just what it was you did toContinue reading “Love?”