L.A.
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My BeatriceA Poem by L.A.My BeatriceCrimson coats my fingertips, coursing downto muddy everything I touch. I run ahand across your bedroom wall and smear scarletover soft yell.. |
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2 AMA Poem by L.A.I used to lovethose hands--the gentleslope of them, the impossiblyslender fingers, quiet veins threateningan ivory surface. The handsyour parents pray.. |
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VespersA Poem by L.A.Short prayer that popped into my head last night. Still might need some re-working. |
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Unto DustA Story by L.A.A submission of mine that had to be cut from the school's literary magazine due to limited spacing. |
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John RolfeA Poem by L.A.TERZA RIMA DOE |
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The Summer That I DrownedA Story by L.A.Drowning isn't entirely a bad thing. |
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