idée fixe

an earworm
haunts the mind:

the itch to know
that which cannot be known

these idyllic sheets

for but a moment I can drown in your eyes, soaking in a solid gaze that speaks depth, understanding Continue reading “these idyllic sheets”

/härt ˈrē(ə)l əsˌtāt/
Continue reading “heart real estate”

Last night at the bar
A stranger asked me if I liked white wine

White billows afore cerulean blue
The smell of Charlie, like a pheromonic catalyst,
Whispers prospects of love. Continue reading “summertime”

She stared into the mirror, into the past,
Saw her weeping behind closed doors—
The only place

In my junior year of high school, my father
took me on a “vacation.”
He wanted to show me the opportunities he had never had.