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Natureexpand_moreHer city, but no cats. Specks of color, no cloth.
We’d never had a cross word, but I’d never corrected him.
Wrung taut & tender at the soft play of fingertips, we breathe desires. Laughter takes refuge in bodies no longer coaxed to move. Nature becomes a thought.
Design a way to kill those rats, and do it now, Fiori, do it now.
Where will we go and how will we steer when the cars are gone?
Re: murdering democracy, oiling the shore, shearing the rain forest.
Make yourself the site of purposeful failure. Take the never-again path.
Across sage flats, tundra, and bleeding hearts, she escapes.
I never actually existed. I didn’t know it at the time, but it’s clear as day.
I make a point of smelling the lilac every day that first week in May.
Because I can love every small thing.
My job requires me to make things disappear like a Vegas magician.
No one was awake and I was hungover young as clean as a piano.
You have your apron on under your coat. We’ve got each other.
I feel unnatural, half a human face smothered in deep light.
Yes, 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.
I hike, I bike, I tap at this keyboard. I survive—and I’m still an old man.
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.
