Category: writing

  • i hate goodbyes —that is to say,a canyon opens between my ribs,a river nourishing all that creeps, swims,and sways in the gentle breezeof your absencetransverses the length of my spinecaressing careless bouldersto cascade over this lip of timethat we do not touch-rjmprompt: the poem i left in your backseattheconstantpoet

  • the waves and the windthe subtle romance of a quiet song playing in your room while miles away, someone moves through lifegiving you breath-rjm