a married man listens to his wife (and a whole lot more than she'll give him credit for) mainly ... CONTINUED
it strikes a cord
i. the notes of her song echo across so much empty air between us (and maybe you’ll say ... CONTINUED
a portrait of self?
it's not some photo pinned in a frame which hangs by the door slowly collecting dust. it's not ... CONTINUED
the morning after
shaft of moon-beam, cold light striking cold tile floors swept clean of history (at least for ... CONTINUED
and it passed
she raised her head like you raise a glass to make a toast and when our eyes met in that ... CONTINUED
heart of the matter
we want what we see and what we reach for are such paltry things, bought off so easily by rust ... CONTINUED
haunted (by the 6 of swords)
how could pixie know her brushstrokes on paper would haunt my waking hours, the interplay of ... CONTINUED
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