Strong like twisting oak branches in late summer haze   your arms that bubbles to the surface Slowly like spheres of gas      your humor escapes from sticky tar melting under the summer sun then Quickly like water droplets dancing on a hot skillet Rain hanging like sheets in a gray Clamoring line your legs two blocks down we run in the sun wet … Continue reading


The burrito first became a thing one cozy morning in Chamonix. I willingly laid myself in As meat And rolled myself up In the tortilla duvet “I’m a burrito!” I announced. And you played along And spiced me up with things Like Cheese [in the form of a furry down comforter] And then a black chocolate cushion And then two white whipped cream pillows And … Continue reading Burrito

Madara – from Reiga, Latvia.

I met her when we couchsurfed together in Prague. We spent the day traversing the city by foot, eating cheap hotdogs, sharing a pint, and celebrating her first ever journey outside of Latvia. Vivacious, talkative, strawberry blond inseparable from her black fedora. Karluv Most. The sea of tourists squiggles too slowly under the hot sun. Beautiful long cars, I’ve never seen before, the color of … Continue reading Madara – from Reiga, Latvia.

Pressing (Paris Love II)

But the moment I treasure the most happened the next day, spread out on the cool damp grass in le Parc de la Villette. A happen-chance message found us together again on the eve of my departure from Europe. Foreheads and noses touching, muscular thigh pressing into my taught sinews, hand encompassing my slim shoulder in a firm steady grasp. Somewhere on the periphery, traces of … Continue reading Pressing (Paris Love II)