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get the words out.
Write in any genre in
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it feels like i've spent
500 years in the desert
and you are the oasis in the distance
(could you possibly not be a mirage?)

are we not the love story (tragedy) shakespeare wrote about?

the knobs of your spine
form a mountain range
and your finger(more)
"Twenty-oh-one Independence."  I said it confidently to the taxi driver, and tried to sound bored, too.  I tried to sound like the city was my home, my everyday life, and that I knew this place that I was just coming back to.  I know this place, cabbie, so don't jerk me around.  "Rig(more)
first time out  of the
city, first impressions: lots
of space, lots of trees.
The coffeemaker light made Leslie squint. Her sleepy blue eyes looked cut from paper as she spun her "There is probably Vodka in here" coffee mug.

Few, final perks and Leslie poured into her mug. Every morning she wakes hours before she needs to find time for th(more)