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Flash Fiction & Poems

Morning — dreams shrink back…

Morning — dreams shrink back as if the shadow of the sun is dangerous; dawn seductively pulls tinctures of light to guide the fading shade.

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I wake up wanting poetry. I li…

I wake up wanting poetry. I listen for church bells & the traveling of your thighs along the warm sheets. I sit up with dawn, peaking.

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Following you down this river …

Following you down this river of people, blinking fast against the sun, you’re a silhouette; a black ghost in my bright kaleidoscope.

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Melda & I are a two-lady parad…

Melda & I are a two-lady parade. With her next to me I’m less brittle; I even smile, waiting for the rain of rice to descend upon our hair.

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The lines broker her reality, …

The lines broker her reality, a singular biography. Let’s make up colors, she says. But hers are always shades of gray, archaic & unsubtle.

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