It’s a false sirens song of safety, not a love affair, I have with the sea, as she whips salt and sand and cold air through my… Read more “Prose 6”
Winter. 1616. ‘Hand me that cutter, will you?’ His voice was rust on iron in deep water. ‘This junk?’ Old metal with a thin cylindrical shape was… Read more “Prose 5”
The air was cold. Frost filled pockets would fill and slap you in the face as you exhaled and moved, and that’s how you kept alive in… Read more “Prose 4”
Slow horns blast in an uncoordinated effort to ruin my psyche. Craving something normal, I’m salivating at the idea of classical music. I can almost see it.… Read more “Prose 3”
Arriving into San Francisco later in the day, checking into hotel along with what was our only lucky parking spot of the stay in the city. We… Read more “Gilded Golden City and Sunset Surfing”
You can spend four hundred nights alone. Content to be alone, but a longing is there. If you’re unaware of this longing you’ve never truly been alone,… Read more “Prose 2”
It was easily seen and impossible to forget. The straight angles of your face and the curved lines of stunning emotion.