-
The Single Girl’s Guide To Sant Jordi
I have no need for flesh to burn. My alter aches for roses, given with good intentions, their petals, soft and sentimental, easing the exertion of existing in a home that grows ever hostile to my heart. The right one never comes. I’ve never been a martyr, because I’m too much of a narcissist, neatly…
-
Hopeful, Again.
Hopeful, again. I am hoping for the best, because I sleep restfully since I met you. I tried your name out in my mouth, and it fit. It tasted good. I imagined a gentle kiss, in the soft glow of the moonlight, and, God, my body smouldered, so starved for something she had barely tasted.…
-
Growing Up
I think wistfully about what I will be like when I grow up. Clean credit cards, a clean sink that gleams, as if it has never glimpsed a dirty dish, a son, settled into sleep (I am so convinced it is a boy), while I write, perched on the windowsill, singing softly to my assorted…
-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
Sincerely, Jennifer x 