archives

Licking lacking

This category contains 27 posts

Constipation

Dear dear, I fell out of love with you. Please don’t get upset. Please don’t stop reading there. Though sometimes an entire relationship can end in a sentence. Don’t let ours halt at the period. Instead see the white around it, and know that there is always a space after the tiny dot. It may … Continue reading

Where you are now

The following was weightlessness. * Dear dear, I believe the world can be reduced to a few, simple physical principles. I don’t have the proof, nor am I seeking it. I could probably argue my way and just point to science and say looky here: there’s the answer somewhere. And then I can probably probe … Continue reading

omega 3

dear dear, it was said that this would be the time of my life. sometimes, it is. days wear sunlight and i can hear an ocean miles away. some of the salt is found in my cup. other times, though, i sit here, baked by the sun, burnt by it, thinking what it means to be turned … Continue reading

An update

Love, Every day, it piles. All I need to tell you. All I haven’t. Some of it is trivial. I have a cat. Her nails are long. She scratches me. Some of it is important. I have a cat. Her nails are long. She scratches me. And it is this repetition of both, in both, … Continue reading

between two points

Dear distant friend, I am bustling through Spain onboard a sleek, undisturbed universe of a bullet train with sun licking the already-burnt skin and a raw, restless summer peeking at countrysides past and farmlands unseen.  My prose is the same unadulterated self-masturbatory streaking you are used to in a style shared with the likes of … Continue reading

Bang

Dear dear, I want to tell you of the summer where I went crazy. It was hot and I was wet with wilderness the way the ocean is when it combs rock into the soft cooing of a beach and he hadn’t quite killed himself yet. My dad would tell me that we do not … Continue reading

when when meant something

dear dear, it was said that this would be the time of my life. sometimes, it is. days wear sunlight and i can hear an ocean miles away. some of the salt is found in my cup. other times, though, i sit here, baked by the sun, burnt by it, thinking what it means to be turned … Continue reading

time off

dear dear, what does it mean to work? is your every day filled with meaning? do you mean to make it to the next day? are your coworkers mean? are hospitals demeaning? or is it all just mean, an average, a lump, a benign thing that takes the excitement of life and death alike? i … Continue reading

dark was the night cold was the ground

dear dear, in the thick legs of nights like these where i can hear the echoes upstairs beginning to get ready to go out, i wonder what space remains to be discovered? there are the usual stars that hang like the feet of dead men, the small caverns of the sea somewhere in someplace wet from the … Continue reading

Novel

Dear dear, I want to give you the words I never did, to tell you how to say things that need to be said in never. There is little to be said now, which is why I have written so much. I am trying to fill in the space to make you feel less like … Continue reading