Tag Archives: prose

Somebody’s Child

The lies don’t matter. Don’t let them blind you to the truth. The sweat streamed down the back of his neck, made silver by the indirect light through the window, and tears were jettisoned off the tip of his nose. … Continue reading

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Two Nickels

The dreaming of the rain is bright, far lighter than the prickly slumber of wood. I could never know his dreams; I only sometimes knew his mind. Thunderheads blotting out the stars of a Summer’s night, ice crystals telegraphing rainbows around … Continue reading

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Last? Next?

I watched her labored breathing, the skin yellow not pink. She’d never been yellow, never been yellow a single day till then. I knew that she had frequently closed her eyes so many times before. Refusal with a punctuation mark. … Continue reading

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The Vista of Rebirth

What happened to you, to me, to that dream we swam in until our arms could move no more? The drunkard of the village was your uncle and your mother had the temper of a sailor away at sea. I … Continue reading

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Squishy

Cellophane is tougher than me. Spider’s silk, too. My mouth may spew and my tendons may tense but you could poke a hole right through my shell and shatter my heart. Don’t do it. Have mercy, won/t you? I’ve the … Continue reading

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Death and the Road to Awe

Oppenheimer’s brilliant light cast a shadow so great upon the mesa that the yawning maw of humanity stood stock still in shock, in awe, in an evolutionary grimace for days to come. Trinity, he called it. Vishnu, he said, with … Continue reading

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Your Basket

Who sleeps in your basket, you do-gooder, you holy-roller, you collector of praise and recompense? Who gains your heart, who is awarded your most gentle caress? I have painted the ones you’ve forgotten or ignored. I have used the color … Continue reading

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dandelion brine

Her confession turns your face to ash and starches up your collar too tight it is around your small throat as she begins to holler. It’s woody white roots tonight for you and maybe even tomorrow it’s dandelion brine and … Continue reading

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the cries of halfwits

The tears get pulled like rubber bands, warm in the sunshine and ready for a plucky mind and a darting hand. Why is life so filled with the strings of Love, the pangs of Love, the marble statues erected in … Continue reading

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Adios, amigas y amigos!

Shifting sands have brought to meFamiliar hands, familiar eyes,Souls I never thought I’d seeHeld fast and blind with roots and ties.Taken away have been the fragile ones Their thin facade not meant to last,Tears a mirror for cold grey stone … Continue reading

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