you couldn’t call it nostalgia for it’s before my time and yet, fluttering heavy lashes, steeped in kohl pouting dark lips, cupid bow kisses careful waves to frame the confection a sequin embrace, a scalloped hem legs encased in sheer wrappings watch me party like it’s 1929 like there’s feathers in my hair charleston-ing my … Continue reading prohibition

s-k / who

call the doctor, call the doctor the ladies had it right i’ll be calling for the doctor while i lie awake at night dreaming of a sweet escape a mad man with a box with wit and wisdom lure me in you crafty english fox a sleepy evening without much creative inspiration, my tapas-related food-coma … Continue reading s-k / who


my hands, extremities of course, fairly extreme battlefields paper cuts and gouges and little crescents of recent stresses scrapes and peeling and freckles just for balance pale down ink stains yesterday’s news rings and things owls and stars and skulls small votive offerings to my hands’ future ploys so much yet to do Continue reading hands