unquenchable thirst

  in the basin languishes the pulp and tendrils of a potent sangria made with naked giggles too much wine, not enough fruit drank from an old chipped cup poured over breasts consumed by women adept at the pleasure of women loath to uncouple dusk skewing shadow and light their disembodied satisfaction slowly unraveled an [...]

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if you forget me

. . are words enough to sooth the soul late at night when its dark and you are alone   are words enough to bind a heart and fuel a fire left burned by the words   if you forget me are words enough to live a past to grow a future with someone else . [...]

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