‘Soft Speaker’

You taste like cold smoke in my lungs, frigid groves and that knitted sweater, caffeinated mornings and evenings inside, gripping onto falsehoods to beg them to die, and blueberries, sweet on my tongue, wrist on my waist and leg between mine sweat on your pillow and laughter chiming in tune with the sound of your … Continue reading ‘Soft Speaker’


it is deep cavernous and cold against my bones and my soul rivets against pure gold quiet longing and quiet despair crept into skin as thin as wire bare-chest and alone matched two, a pair left once, burnt twice, quiet despair let him in, she begs pure hope and pure faith ensnared but he bristles … Continue reading ‘Depths’