Thick fog, hanging in the air like a bleak curtain. Remembering, picturing blurry silhouettes standing three feet away. Days like this are…
your eyes protest | it shouldn’t be this dark when you wake up | turn the lights on | pack umbrellas, tickets…
I remember a straight tarred line piercing this dry and arid land, there was a single powerline to the left of me…
The curve of a droplet reminds me of your lips. I then think to the light refracting through a summer rain, To…
There are days I kiss my boulder and leave bloody prints of my love on it. The boulder is rough, but my…
the sky’s the colour of canned salmon when i see that you’ve posted a poem for the first time since our last…
Translations to best understand the poem: Diarios = newspapers Revistas = magazines Boliches = little kiosks that sell food the airport kiosk…
Oh my god, Forgive the blood on my hands, Forgive the blood on my lips. I am tainted—oh my god, I didn’t…
I am not happy in this church My mother prays for a miracle Day by day with the same mundane cry As…
please press ‘0’ if you wish to speak to an underpaid clerk who is studying philosophy part time please be careful please…
