Tag Archives: prose

not even close

I can’t let it go. Just fucking let it go. But you were the closest I ever came. I can’t even get a word in these days. But it seemed so easy back then with you. Staring at your red walls. Wait, that was someone else. Then who is it then? It’s all of them. […]

I Thought You Were My John Wayne

On perfect nights we would lay outside of the Lex on 19th and Lexington in the mission of San Francisco. We’d watch the lesbians come out of the bar, my favorite ones dressed in boy’s clothes with fedoras. I would secretly be attracted to them and I would lean in your ear and tell you. […]

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