Now, for once.

2016 § Leave a comment

I was just reminded of the time I missed the moon across the world from here. I wish I could go back to that moment of missing something so honest. I remembered the sadness and find myself now missing the mountains I’m surrounded by. And love. And the smells I’ll forever try to carry with me from my dreams. I’ve accidentally found myself in Los Angeles. There’s a beautiful lady downstairs talking about magic. Hopefully she’ll leave some with me when she disappears. Her name is a sword.


2016 § Leave a comment

The only way to kill them is to grind them. I want to sprinkle them around my life without the guilt of seeing them in whole dead pieces.

Them whispers, “Head mistress of sacrifice and temporary sun, your fortune is burned in the window. He will forever search.”


Love, in the next moment

2016 § Leave a comment

I patiently waited for your morning gift I didn’t realize I was receiving. I was certain every letter had a secondary purpose, the kind of purpose that gave meaning to our secret language. But not the obvious language. A language only you and I partially understand. Soon I’ll be the expert on you, until the perfection fades.

Love, in a moment.

2016 § Leave a comment

You sent me an electronic coffee with your favorite quotes written in the prettiest cursive letters I could never replicate.


2016 § Leave a comment

Pelican Booth: A soft place to land and hang out instead of crashing and dying in the ocean.

Simple Things

2014 § Leave a comment

“Are you concerned about telling people you’re 56?”
“No. I’m very handsome and super nice.”
“But you’re not 56.”
“Right, but people will find a way to believe whatever you tell them. I like being 56.”
“Okay. Let’s kiss now.”

Luckily, my not 56 year old, soon to be lover, listened to the third party sharing our minds and grabbed my arms before the light swallowed me whole. I’ve never felt so accomplished sitting on a couch.

Chapter 14

2014 § Leave a comment

I stood in the middle of the road, weakened by this version of the story.  Staring into her eyes I could see the determined hands closing in around her throat.  As she gasped for air I promised, “one day you’ll exist on Rosey Canyon Run and everything will be okay.”   My fingertips caressed her cheeks as her skin dissolved into my flesh.  Her demons flooded my veins as I dropped to my knees and pleaded with your god to show me the light. But when the view shifted into focus I realized the source of the hands were his all along.  As I lay, staring at the sun, I submitted to the power while her tears ran down my face.  I hoped my last memory would be from just moments earlier when all I could feel was the heartbreak of falling in love.

I could hear the pitter patter of the circus buzzing by, but you can never count on swine to distinguish fact from fiction.