Someday This Will All Be Gone

Time tends to create an opaque membrane,with more limited optical clarity, behind the lenses of eyes that automatically adjust for distant targets,when someone, who is very fond of blue,comes near.It draws the taupe veneer of historyover the windows of the heart,goading light from the front of the house—What if I could shine from inside out?—to… Continue reading Someday This Will All Be Gone

One-Track Mind

Thinking about how sex is different, much more different, now than it was then; not materially -- the strings still bray, their ancient tongues still flick the same -- but structurally. Thinking about how to imagine being fucked from behind, without gagging on a principle: all sex is violence except the kind that is saved… Continue reading One-Track Mind