2 Sides to Every Story “Just right,” the yellow-haired monster said, before she swallowed the remnants of their dinner. When my mother and I argue, there are always two sides to the story we write together. I said this, she said that; I meant this, she meant that. I find it interesting how memory can... Continue Reading →
I see you in the curves of the street On your skateboard Curly headed and hot from the heat My Parkdale prince First love, last love, lost love We meet in old places Tracing lines over memories Stamped into our skin, onto our Hearts, necks Sex, raw and passionate Unrelenting and selfish We crave each... Continue Reading →
My spirit is being threatened; today I feel the weight of Lucille Clifton’s line “won’t you celebrate with me… that everyday someone has tried to kill me and has failed.”
Is it the vexation of being misunderstood that shakes you so? Or is it frightening to know that someone, somewhere sees you clearly?
A body of burden A burden for a body How might one Lighten the load?