A Collection of my poems, stories, and interviews.
October 19, 2008
I introduced her to Olga saying, name the spider and it won’t scare you anymore. On the couch pillow, face stung by the sun and a kiss, Abigail slept beneath the fluttering wings of the bat she’d named Carlos.
That my soul is a dark forest. That my known self will never be more than a little clearing in the forest. That gods come forth from the forest into the clearing of my known self, and then go back. That I must have the courage to let them come and go. That I will try always to recognize and submit to them.