What We Tell Ourselves (title)I tell a lot of awful stories. Almost all of them are true. Does it matter that all of them came before I'd heard of you? I know that I can only save myself. That's not exactly breaking news. But is it so wrong to be grateful that someone says... See More »
Corpus Kristie (of Cell Block C) (title)Over a thousand captive nights I measured her every centimeter with lips, fingertips, and tongue. Her curves, her scars, her freckles became my Bible, a testament read slowly in the dark through attentive touch like braille. I memorized it... See More »
Mountain LaurelHer hair was made of fire And her eyes were mountain green Her smile my soul's desire The loveliest lass I'd seen But her heart was black as coal Deep beneath the mountain's brow Darker than the depths untold Colder than the mountain ground I have... See More »
