these clouds are water, not smoke.

We elected it, so we had only ourselves to blame.

“There's got to be better stuff out there.”

I hear the swoop of wings beating the soft air

I keep looking at what isn't there.

I study lost saints

They are not happy

We adopted a dog. Molly.

Salute, raise your arms, swoon

You dream of snow that tastes like cream.

one mass silhouette

Miss Storm had an idea.

A dream pushes through the swaying shadows

I exist in a spatial and temporal mode you can’t conceive.

You are safest within the house, under the protection of your caretaker.

“A man has jumped into Surya’s den.”

But at least I’m not alone. 

my love songs undulate like the abandoned strands of kelp

“Hello, you. Hello, there.”

She thought maybe none of it had been really real.