Feast
Visions of skin, soap-slicked and sun-warmed, sliding
Visions of skin, soap-slicked and sun-warmed, sliding
My honeyed syrup drips, sticky sweet, coating my sugared walls, coaxing your fingers further inside where their scissoring tease pulls forth my dripping wet. My heart beats a two-syllable tattoo… Read more »
I have stories. They are written on my skin in creases and lines, tattoos and scars. My body helps me remember and won’t allow me to forget. I have a… Read more »
I’ve been having a hard time writing lately. I have ideas swirling around in my brain, I have conversations logged in my memory, I have a hundred moments – quiet,… Read more »