I could swallow this city whole, brambles and weeds and prickly pears and tarantulas and hawks and wild mushrooms and plums and apples and rosehips and all. And I miss you. I could wash it down with the cool water cascading over graffitied rocks melted from mountain run offs that erodes these cliffs we’d walk… Continue reading Charmolypi


Face in the sand and I keep wondering what sort of corpse I’ll leave behind. Aged and worn, with colors and scars and indentations and asymmetry. Soft palms. The kind you’d feel gently rousing you from a nap in the sun. Velvet. That word won’t leave my head. Crushed velvet. Worn velvet. The sound it… Continue reading Velvet