I haven’t slept beneath the Sunday sun with you for a while, but every so often, I slip into a scene, subconsciously, in which I do. I always wake up in a bittersweet mood, when I’ve spent the night inside my mind, inside of your arms (if it sounds complicated, that’s because it is complicated),…

The last time I left my heart to someone else’s devices, it was divisive. Split in two, right down the middle, in a painful, pristine pink line, I left my inner child, bleeding out, on a beach, atop a mountain. I smoked, making circles out of the car window, as I watched the waves turning…