Après L’Amour

You’ve already left for work when I awake, embracing the empty air and breathing in your dimestore perfume that everyone mistakes for French. “Apres l’amour” sings Aznavour the tousled sheets still bear the imprint of our bodies. I can still Read more ›

Engagement Poem

The burly stationmaster Wiped his brow, Gazed at his pocket watch And cried out “All aboard” We were off. I couldn’t promise you A land where Clocks spun backwards And the old never wrinkled. I could only invite you to Read more ›