Load-bearing
I choose them both.
Intimacy
Perfect Morning
The back door sticks on humid mornings.
Briefly and Completely Mine
I log none of this. That is new.
Filed Under
The lair smelled like solder and bad decisions.
Still Light
The morning started with Donnie eating toast over the sink the way he always did
Thorn Apple
Ruthanne stopped apologizing years ago.
The Phone
I can make it ring.
The Final Meal
The room is cold. A hospital cold that lives in the walls.
The Last Mercy
Three flowers, a knife, and the burden of knowing what mercy costs.
The Acknowledgement
Between panes of glass, choice slips away.
Fancy Meeting You Here
Vanilla musk. She never changes.
Who Gardens the Gardeners?
It started as a joke, really. Betsy dared me.