She curled up with them, their black and twisted horns catching in her hair and sticking in the back of her mind. She slept soundly, hiding herself in the hollows of their many eyes, warming in the fires of their bellies. Five-pointed stars burned black in the nighttime around her, keeping her locked in the … Continue reading Who Dreams with Demons
The obvious-- Gray dust, the narrow escape of an electric death and the heavy balm of summer nights. The hidden-- Yellowed picture in Grandfather's coat, a first kiss under Midwestern porch light, and the whispers of children.
We are born in litters of hundreds, taken home in loving manicured hands. These polish-tipped mothers situate us together criss-cross applesauce. We are just like our mothers, different colors, shapes, and sizes. We are strong like them-- rarely breaking, always bending. Sometimes we are lost, and like them we spend time alone. We are always … Continue reading Bobby Pins
You sit in sweltering Georgia heat, mosquitos drinking from salted skin. Another glass of sweet iced tea, fingered with Jack Daniel’s sour mash whiskey, sweats in your hand. The moon dips below the lip of your rented wrap-around porch and throws pale light on your rocking chair. Soon, when the warm liquor has curled in … Continue reading To Savannah, With Love
I have found her, that girl who plays with fire. She has embers under her eyes that turn steel to midnight. I found her by the moon, molten curls fanned by earthly wind. Her fingernails of opal are lacquered by silver flame and tears of kerosene spark from charcoal lashes. She drinks fire straight, opens her … Continue reading I Have Found Her
Typewriter Moon 