“In this kind of business, all your flowers are like your children.” —Tamey Lau I. At worlds and Miles’ End, There lives the Mother...

The will of God on bright blue as I wait to become. Here He is. On me, in me, flushing yellow on my skin. On all of us – waiting,...

The night deepens in its newest song. Heat has dissolved, its breaths now long, all in the acquisition of a shade— but humid as a swamp,...

I look at you, measuring whether I’m fearful your dark eye darting your unease, wildness here in this basement room my refuge, where you...