Rough fingertips, worn and calloused Touch the air and tell me otherwise They have pulled a trigger And caressed the luminous silk of An infant’s head. The have massaged a heart that stopped beating - To no avail And cracked the fingers of a rival in a whirlpool Of spiral fractures. They have made music... Continue Reading →

Give me a “C”!

I had no idea that bump in the night was Cocaine, That the sweet smiles and caress was induced euphoria, The monster under my bed or in the closet was next to me In the form of her need. Malignant and corrupting something pure - Loving. I know how she felt, save I was addicted... Continue Reading →

Que Sera, Sera

Kevin knew he wanted to kiss her, knew she wanted to kiss him. They had just returned from their hike, cooling down from the unrepentant heat of the sun that brought its life and death to all it touched – gracing and cursing. The hike was beautiful, winding as it did up Cheyenne Mountain, scrub... Continue Reading →

Ode to My Final love

I wrote this sonnet in classic Elizabethan form out of Respect for Keats and because I am a hopeless romantic. Though I understand this form to be archaic, it is nonetheless beautiful. Also, I know it's not any form of classical Ode in style, but who cares. It's dedicated to her.

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