JupiterMoon
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My stories
fade
fade every early morning, i scrape down the last light from the constellations; stars, i feel suit my demands. sifting, rinsing them through shivering hands; sky wishes too hot to hold.
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- 1115 reads
an equator of traffic jammed
an equator of traffic jam back east, a low showing ramp stuck out like a tongue, pokes from a delivery suite. shackled in traction, automated birthing partners breathe out
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- 1444 reads
words make walls
words make walls they are married, i gather, and have met for breakfast coffee. he settles behind a Guardian, and a look of disgust. she fingers a croissant, trying to catch the eye
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- 1094 reads
king for a day
king for a day there is a couple slurring their way toward the restroom. she has large golden breasts, swinging free of her crumpled dress. he has the slack-jawed grin,
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- 1251 reads