Kristina Moulaison > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

Daddy loved me like an afternoon TV commercial,like ice cream licked from the bottom of a bowlwhen no one’s looking, his tongue searchingcold an..

This chipped paint, the missing trim The faint, black fingerprints left in the ceiling Where you hung the wrong light This is my song The ..

Another Charleston story

I can hear the other shoe About to drop, as I amRecursively walking up and down the stairs-Dust askanse- Forgetting what I came for Folding ..

I realized, a broken windshield too late, the poignancy of my situation. As I picked the broken glass out of my hair, I paused to conside..

Mother -she has written me a heart attacklines like octopus armsword suckers on tentaclesred X’s dangle over childhoodlike clown mobiles bobbing..

I am the slave master’s daughter pulling squares of sugar-coated bodies out of black soil fingering pain - taking test bites..

walking sand dunes to my standing stone - footprints blown with the wind - stripping silks to drift on air, pulled from a hungry cl..

As I was reading of the mechanisms of an industrial age, the clock on the wall skipped in its chiming; a stutter in the artery - anachron..

Temptress witch, a worthy vessel to carry our sin through fire to an angry god. We absolve ourselves the lust of survival, pur..