(find the previous part here) *** of course we know stories aren’t real. But we are real (probably) and language is real (for all its holes) and imagination and empathy are real and in the bubbling soup of us, words, and pretend, out comes this flavor of bakery-made meals and warm bread, or maybe tastesContinue reading “stories aren’t real”
Tag Archives: reality
lies like a pretty boy’s hands
Smear the brownie under the bower’s knee to sweeten the pain of the stance. My elbows are spikes, nailing me flat into reality, hinging me up and down like a doll flailing in dance. Are we real? My hips hold the secrets to the universe, swaying when I waltz, causing lurches of gravity on aContinue reading “lies like a pretty boy’s hands”
Blur these Edges
Survival in the prison of my body: this bed my altar, sleep my sacrifice, eyes aching one of three ways, but if we’re being honest the third is just an intersection of the other two, tears plus sleeplessness featuring dull ache, day twenty three. — Survival in the prison of my body: a mind goesContinue reading “Blur these Edges”
Jordyn Saelor 