Folding dried towels, I think of you again, my head rolls, fire burns under the navel, juices flow and the mind is numbed into trance. You move your...
Will you open them for me this year? They've sat, undusted for so long now. Sometimes I forget, trip over them, curse them, then remember you and so...
Pale. A leaf, dried still in the snow. I hug you, half a man now. Shook, lines dug further into your smoky face. You busy the place with packing and...