I’m rising to the twelfth floor on a slow dangle when it stops on three and what can I do? I sigh and snap watchward glances, but in elevators and buses you go where and whenever you’re taken, so I dangle and wait. And the elevator door-wings slide wide on an angel, a young creature … Continue reading A Short Story of Lofty Longing
For every blue, a craving burns orange; for every violet, flames a yellow desire; in every hot heart smolders embers of emerald. And every white hunger ashes a black want.