Poetry
-

Nascence
Like all tempestuous spells, it began with a whisper. A string of rounded consonants, melodic and…
-
it was always her
The glossy magazine pages are stained and creased with childish fingers. We look, the colors bright,…
-

A hypothesis
We are scientists. Hypothesizing the formula for life-Dicovering the delicate balance to a docile exisitence, wondering…
