Dreams Of Old

In between the words you left me falling through, quiet eyelids turned fluttering butterflies, ethereal and unimaginable flashes of thought come to focus as though through the twitching lens of a steady gruff hand -so old it has whiskers on the fingers- color created within the steady isolation of the mind not without where it … Continue reading Dreams Of Old

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Dust and Glass

"You get this look, you know, you're too old, kid." Always the two of us sitting; this time commercialized coffee shops hug the seats of our pants; he'd say 'britches' with a couple more shots working slowly from gut to brain. Fingers his cigarette nails cracked up the sides, little white dots on them, read … Continue reading Dust and Glass

Silence in White Privilege

It is not a quiet and submissive sheet of white, the canvas behind which you hide your silence, the quiet whispers as to where advantage is derived from, truth being it was stolen hundreds of years ago, as men and women of a different place were brought to new beaches with souls and hearts scarred … Continue reading Silence in White Privilege