We used to walk underthe tunnel at Fire Island,yelling nonsensical noisesjust to feel the vibrationsbounce back and tickle oursun-kissed ears--souveni..
City buildings lean forward to listen,but they cannot hear the whisperednothings you tossed around the nightbefore--mi mariposa, mi pajarito, butnever..
Every night at 12,I pour myself a largeglass of Jose Cuervo,find an empty seat atthe kitchen table, andwatch as ice cubesdisappear into thedead sea. I..