Portfolio: If words existed in youth

If words existed in youth   I would not say my skin looks gray Or that words ever fail me Through corridors and gnarled woods I recoil in an eldritch sun Saguaro shrieks as the pine sheds Needles in the dust.   We look ahead to messy beds Credit cards
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‘Love’ in a bus

You have love on your jacket,” said a man next to me. I nod and keep staring out the window. He is a foot taller than me. The canvas coat he wears is stained with grease, and he smells like a gutter. Moments earlier, he said he had served in
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