We are
strung together
by gossamer strands of
shared longing
and unseen inevitability
There is a warmth
that swallows my soul
at the sound of my
name falling from your mouth
I think that if ever
we were to stand too close
my very bones would
turn to silk
Though your body
lies sleeping
a million miles from here
your soul slumbers
within my own

“Psychologists and Psychiatrists and New Age Dr. Phil in-your-facers have a lot to say about denial. I don’t think they quite go deep enough, or maybe they just haven’t really had to. For myself, it is a constant struggle to understand what I’m doing and why and when denial is existing as more than just a river in Egypt.

In times of crisis my mind and body disconnect from each other. Or maybe just mind and lower functions like instinct or basic urges. My reasoning retreats almost entirely while my body steps forward under the direction of some animal intelligence no doubt attributed to ancient learned behavior.”  Continue reading…

“Grasping his last cigarette with nicotine-stained fingers, the tips dyed a sickly yellow from years of use, the aging manager lifted the white cylinder to his lips. His break was coming to a close as the hands of his watch slowly inched towards the half hour.

Underneath the fluorescent light of the break room, every bump, scratch, and pockmark on his skin was illuminated by the sterile screeching of the light. Shaking his last couple of deathsticks back into the carton, the manager slipped it inside his uniform and went to man the open register out front.
The lobby was empty.” Continue reading…