if she walked out of the nude that sits in my room and sat in my chair sketched from behind faceless and pale with ribbons for hair i would embrace her with tears our wet cheeks meeting mine of skin hers of ink and paper she would tell me of her world the two bicycles rough sketched without brakes or a chain and of her … Continue reading “if she walked out of the nude” by Ryan Evans
i wish to say that my love would be a revelation gentle plane tracing the curves sanding fine dust clay under nails hands pushing to mold hourglass string plucked peg turned string plucked peg turned until the entirety is tuned melting garlic in oil aromatic scrape pan against burner shuffle head cradled body enters water baptized wet hair sticking to forehead gulping air swept in … Continue reading “my love a revelation” by Ryan Evans
salt dried eyes crusty blink slow morse code batted between eye lids down cheek a drop of water carves a path drops off the chin to free fall stop crying that’s all he said at the sight of her bent double on the couch the earth opening below her stop crying please and she did eyes white and wet with red tendrils snaking through why … Continue reading “salt dried eyes” by Ryan Evans
I’m made of ceramic or white porcelain and my arms are string ragdoll physics dragged off the table and smashed into pieces swept up into a dustpan carried carefully across the kitchen around the other pile of dust cereal and thin strips of onion skin dumped into the garbage can the smell makes what used to be me gag but I can’t gag anymore it … Continue reading “I’m made of ceramic or white porcelain” by Ryan Evans
