It’s a warm autumn day, sticky underneath the layers of wool. It was presumed that there’d be a gust of wind amongst the sunshine. Walking down East River blocks of bodies march up and down the streets, smelling of salt, all tuning into their day, a long journey of what becomes of their life. None the same. A man wearing an all black suit, steamed flat. Possibly walking back from his own fathers f...

I can’t tell where my breath begins and where yours exhales. Not when your lips solidify their placement on mine, wet and careless but your direction is still clear. Task not finished. We get so caught up in the impossibility of it all that I lose consciousness of my body. I don't know what is supposed to be mine, what is left of me that has yet to be given. But whatever is here is now in your pos...

I left the cafe, half expecting to see her, half disappointed. It’s an unrealistic thought that she’d appear, dug out of her own grave- not even an actual one, simply stuffed underground and compacted with cold, dry dirt- pulled onto her feet and clocked into her shift. To see her working her marvelous hands that prepares peoples days with a cup. Headed to the office, school full of students, goin...