One should always have a secret life. Great Aunt Edna always wore her silvery hair tight in a bun— at night she unpinned, and the glistening waves came crashing to her waist. I liked to watch “prim and put-together” transform to little mermaid, sitting at the gilded vanity, sliding her tortoise shell comb through the […]

She’s not an oracle, simply my therapist.  I bring my basket brimming to her now— can you believe it— now only once every two or three moons, an offering of fears laid at her feet. She peels back the dark  cloth, takes in the writhing serpents,  notes their diminishment in size and power.  Only garden […]

I have become too familiar with the moon,the man thinks, as he studies her 2 a.m. ensemble. The veil of violet is a provocative touchand those sidelong glances through its hazy lace stir feelings he had buried deep. Her figure O body makes him want to kiss her, if only his reach were longer. Size […]