Melancholy – S. K. Nicholas

In the middle of eating my sandwich, I come to the sudden realisation that every square inch of this planet must be haunted. Even worse, is that such trauma is as natural as the falling of rain from clouds that come and go like the beat of a heart buried beneath sheets unwashed for several weeks. My sheets, and my heart, I’m ashamed to say. Yesterday, itseemed to be the ‘90s, and for …

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Journal – Holly Rene Hunter

From the past  I capture   a light bring  forward  a globe of fire reflected in the irises of my eyes or an ocean pooling  in my palm. My  nights  are the darkest psalms. Your   memoir  etched into my heart. One tender sway and suddenly I remember. Copyright Holly Rene Hunter