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What is love
What is love but the leftovers after the plates and dishes of the soul the scraps and spills and the dirty wine glasses lipsticked rims have been cleared away That, is love. What is love but the remains after the war and torn bodies have gone back to the earth and the machines are silent…
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Writing Through
It’s not pleasant, where I start. In fact I don’t want to start because of the stench and the rot and the sameness of words left to die, mirrors everywhere and in them, my heart. I know everything there is to know about this room there are no more secrets there hasn’t been for some…
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S.O.P.
Morals and missions and values and ethics all keep us from the terrible humanity. The truly terrible inside each of us. Without those things we are awash in the gravity of the void. And now that the structure is down all that remains is the unknown self against eternity. And the self is a very…
LYNCH 