Monday, February 17, 2014


My breasts were magnificent.

Truly magnificent.

And so were my thighs.

That's how I knew it was a dream.

Monday, February 3, 2014

Future Tense

Am I awake?

I must be. I remember this from before. The comforting weight of his arm, the light, rhythmic snore, the tickle of his beard against my bare shoulder, all familiar.

Except that it hasn’t happened yet. We never did this, so this must be the part that comes later.

And the part when he accidentally texted me that poem…

I was listening to the wind whistle
Against the top of my beer can
Trying to figure out what to say
I turned around to tell you
But you’d blown away”

That hasn’t happened yet either.