Stepping Stones

Life is a series of stones, I’ve come to believe. Some solid. Some cracked to the bone. Some hidden. Some known. One step, two step, red step, blue step.  Blind step, new step.   “I’m afraid,” I say, “you step.” His response, “I step. You step.”

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Love and Art

“I think as an artist, to become an artist, you have to love yourself so much.  Then, you have to find someone;  You have to find someone who loves you even more…” He said after I questioned love.  And I thought.  I sunk in my thoughts. Thought upon thought of all the things that I […]

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Rhythmic Time

The world moves in rhythmic Time.  Everything has a pulse, a tempo, a beat.  Like a heart.   Your heart. I found mine skipping along side it with my hand in yours.  I felt it in your fingertips.  I heard it upon your chest.  I crawled inside.  I danced with you.  Though I was out […]

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Romance Novelist

I write romantic things for privileged women who call themselves girls much passed their girlhood. They read with me. They stare at the make-up on their faces. We are made up and lined. Every day, new lines. Crooked lines. Curved lines. Lines lines lines. I pray to whatever god I believe in that day for […]

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Runic Time

“One Time, Two Time;  Three Time, Four..” Time counts his own minutes then stashes them underneath plastic floor boards.  He giggles afterthoughts at the irony of keeping such a hideous heart.  He knows he’s not the one who beats it.  Ribs do that part.   He’s merely a vessel for its’ art.  

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