He will always be home. The smell of that apple-scented candle lingering through the vents of the house Shoes with muddy tongues lined up by the front door Red, hot stove burners alive on Sunday mornings Scratches and greasy fingerprints cluttering the worn porcelain bowls Battered pillows covered in drool and old make up Wrinkled… Continue reading Residency.
She had saw him today. He had saw her yesterday. Never the same time. … They were out of sync. Out of love.
She can wear what she wants. She can walk down the street naked, and you still would not have the right to violate her. If someone leaves the door to their house open, does that give you the right to walk in? To caress their couches, examine their personal pictures on the wall, sleep in… Continue reading Do Not Touch.
First, she lost the waves of strawberry blonde that ended at her waist. Then she lost her mouthwatering skin, a bright and throbbing red like a bed of ripe and ready strawberries in a strawberry field. She used to have a tasty, round figure that everyone would drool over, but now she’s dry, with off-black… Continue reading Death and Decaying.
She was carried down to the earth on the sun on a summer day in May. And she was carried up to heaven on the moon on a cold, dark, night. She appeared in my dream one night, adorned in a purple dress, eating an orange Creamsicle. She birthed thirteen children, six boys and seven… Continue reading Grandma Faye.
She liked her coffee black Black like the curly locks that drape around her head. Black like the timeless, smooth, skin that hugs her bones. She was born in the thirties. And died in the nineties. She couldn’t get an education, so she made sure her three children did. She was born in Texas. And… Continue reading Grandma Amie.
Books spread across my bed. And sheets pinned down on my head. subscribe via email below to be gifted a cool, personalized, zine and to receive other exclusive subscriber rewards and privileges!
My hair is black like the dark night sky. My eyes are as brown as the debris of my latte. My nose is wide like the infinite ocean. My mouth is dry like the green cactus of the Saguaro desert. My face is as round as mother Earth. My body is full like my belly.… Continue reading Similes
Why wasn't the human body made strong enough to withstand the strength and the wrath of the human hand?
I place one hand firmly around its figure, and the other around the top. I slowly twist on the top and the bottle throbs in my hand as it bubbles and foams up inside. It softly sizzles and whistles as suds start to crack and pop. I get the top off and foam… Continue reading Caffeine
