I sit in a chair
that melts to nothing
beneath me. I close my eyes
because she says I can
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Poetry
Contemporary
1 min
2 505Readings on her works
Followers
Poetry
Polyamory in Theory
we spent seven years
planning our route
thieved maps and charts
marked the dangerous spaces
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Short Fiction
When the Door Is Blue
The second house on the left. If the door is blue, you're welcome. Red, you've come too early. Green, too late.
The meaningless chant comes to me whole. I can't remember where I've heard it, but
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