at last

He’s locked in a gentle rhythm; his chest rises and falls. No more aching, late-night mania. No more blondes with blood-red lips and pale skin clawing at his thin legs and arms. Their pink tongues are filled with poison.

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7 thoughts on “at last

  1. Very image-provoking for sure. What I love about the writing is that it feels like an abstract painting…meaning many different things to different people depending on where they are at with life. Where do you find all of the prints that you post? I love them!

  2. Thank you so much!!! What a beautiful compliment…I truly needed to hear it today. The images I find are usually from one of the major international art museum collection databases (MoMA, NGA, Louvre, Chicago AI, Freer/Sackler, Met, etc). I just love poking around and looking at art and photography…

  3. Ahhh, very nice! I’m an artist (on hiatus more than practicing while raising Maycee), so when I see the paintings and prints you find it just sets my little heart wondering. Images and imagery are powerful, and you are so terrific at it. Your blog gives me that artistic connection I need on any given day, so thank YOU. 🙂

"... all my lovers were there with me, all my past and futures."

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