Category Archives: Prose, Love, and Happiness

But perfection But everything is so perfect here, so green, I know you cannot imagine. Plato’s Form of green. The moisture stuck to my eyelids makes the sunshine ten times more than it ought to be. I see plain pastoral … Continue reading →

Forever. The only ring I have ever had. It is melted to my skin. I cannot remove it; I would not. The lifeblood of its ideal sustains my body, directs my every move, bats my eyes for me and flashes … Continue reading →