107 10 8
|
1. Zugzwang When he reached zugzwang, he resisted the urge to upend the chess board. The bishop, the king—any move and it's checkmate. Fracturing a morning of raspberry scones, Sumatra blend coffee. He looked across the board at his…
|
96500
|
Rosea plays a bohemian plainsong for the cosmonauts among us, while her fuzzy apple hips spit glitter, spin strobes: pink shades of pantyline flicker; lip-licked neon hues scrape strings in B sharp, a gloomy clue.
|
101700
|
Can you see the rut? Can you dig your fingers into the flesh?
|
102020
|
She dips a toothpick in ink, running prick over paper, simply to prove herself wrong.
|
91743
|
#spotify / Elevators / Sky Burial Monologue
|
