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Natureexpand_moreYes, Sweetness, a white shadow shimmers on the X-ray of the future.
I stop and look at the sky. Suddenly: orange, red, pink, blue, green, purple.
You and the cat wish I were baking pumpkin pie and we were happier.
Her mother singing out the window at trucks slamming the other way.
The world smells brand-new crisp the way an ax cuts fire wood.
No one else ever seemed to mind working side-by-side a murderer.
The slow-falling leaves contain the space of the story I’m pursuing.
There were so many tired, frayed words thick in the air around her.
A new Wyoming photography portfolio from Twister Marquiss
A new Wyoming photography portfolio from Twister Marquiss
Twister Marquiss
A bunny the size of a teacup feasts in the clover, ears lit up in salt-pink light.
Our eyes searched for the island, but ahead there was only overcast.
At Pompeii the little dog lay curled and did not rise but slept the deeper.
No more laughing like the waves. No more ocean of words to drink from.
“Ki o tsukete!” she called, and he knew the words. Be careful.
Not the Olympics, the guard said. Just chuck yourself down the tube.
We began to obsess over water, where it came from, where it was going.
Sweet breath hard breath. Every breath a stone-cold bird in thaw.
As a child I wanted to behold the elusive squid, the patience of eels.
give me a fish and I will make a necklace of its sharpest bones
It was the way of the world: everybody wanted someone else.
Dr. Zee knows his son is struggling up out of some chemical fog.
I read an article and learn that the gloomy octopus has three hearts.
