March 2015

Perhaps the lack of words is a reflection of the emptiness. Not inside, but around me. Emptiness in the repeated faces, the repeated act of moving from one moment of tuned happiness to the next. Brick faced restaurants consuming us […]

the evidence is in the way I loved you. the way I lose myself in the flurry, the words settling around us like styrofoam flakes in an agitated snow globe. Distance does little, and time is just …