My memories are the heat of your body, My memories are the animal breathing of the night we drove hours to meet somewhere in the middle. My memories are like secrets that every lover knows
Tag: writing
on the weight of salt
out there on the muggy shores of the dead sea,I felt the ground shake and move beneath me. out there in black mud and heavy air,salt dissolved and itched and tangled my hair. I went there to be moved and out in the desert,Pangaea herself seemed to tremble with hurt. With purpose I fled to… Continue reading on the weight of salt
On parent problems and how you can’t escape them
I find myself baffled in my defeat, having stayed on guard and defensive for all possible sorts of daddy issued dilemmas, only to be blindsided by a plethora of ideas I hadn’t even considered. Having worked my hardest to find balance against common themes of insecurity and the compensation of male validation in my teenage… Continue reading On parent problems and how you can’t escape them
On parents
The mortality and death of one, instantly highlights the limitations and finality of the other. My mother’s actions and presence are a constant taunting reminder of the way time passes unnoticed and one day will sweep her away into memory. Her mothering is ever present in the lacking space of my fathering, and it puffs… Continue reading On parents
On balance
If my head were to Open down the middle From the pressure implied by Lover and loved and the books I haven’t finished, If I were to open and spill I wonder What kinds of things undigested, undiminished, Would scatter and tumble out: the jokes i forgot to tell you tangled in my memories of… Continue reading On balance
on storybooks
the sanctity of the fairy tales we hold close, lies in the impossibility of those places. I marvel and cherish such a utopia,because its beauty is in that I will never reach it,no one will ever reach it and it will therefore stay perfect forever.everything we touch we tarnish.
Garbanzo Bae 