Category: writing

  • rhyolitehow many streetsneed i wanderbefore i stumble upon your shoulders, set gentle in your frame?salt brine airhugging our bodieslike a lover departingwe speak separate languagesbut understand the same tongue-rjm

  • summer beckonswith a warm mouthsticky sweet from suckingswollen ripe fruit from supple fingersit makes me dizzy andi fling my arms widespinning in a circle in the grass,a veritable Maria of California-rjm