on our pale blue eyes,

beneath foreboding skies.

(once upon a forever ago)

Studio Apartment, 1998

Fall out.

A slap to my face.

Panic in your pin-dot eyes. We can’t do this again.


is what you meant.

I freshen. You turn to sky.

Shovel in Hand

The hum of spring

reaches my ears,

as I dig through winter’s crown.