i too am nathan phillips and i've seen this grinning boy. his face has floated before mine like a helium balloon once or twice in my life. it's harmless enough, his face alone, until you're 12 and your glasses are too big because they're all your parents can afford. the toothless smile itself is not … Continue reading nathan phillips
Tag: Writing
the first car i ever saw on fire was my own. what are the odds of that happening? a car fire is something you imagine seeing in person along the side of the road (or the highway even) as you continue on about your business. if you're lucky enough to ever encounter a car fire … Continue reading two onlookers
today i killed a tiny bug the likes of which i'd never seen before as it crawled aimlessly on the parched sheets of my journal. its body was lighter than the breeze and colored orange; yet, despite its unequivocal lightness, it was imperturbed by the breeze or the heavy breaths i exhaled as part of … Continue reading tuesday
i felt the sand of another beach peppering my hair. i felt the salt sea wind crest like promise in the wings. the sight of moon and stars and light dripped from midnight limbs to stretch across the top of sea, broken by the waves and foam. i heard a voice of sorrow then, calling … Continue reading i felt the sand of another beach
i'm like the moth; vellum wings whispered into existence, forged and firm by the flame, cooled in the grey-black river of night. i'm like the moth... there's midnight underneath my wings and around: streams of charcoal ribbon ends undone. there's midnight on my heart, cooled in the grey-black river. candle wears the flame on her … Continue reading the heraclitus matching candle set
we are vultures on a track, grounded gargoyles oblivious to passing cars, waiting for a train.
she throws her head back and contemplates every inch, her body an electric curve: the aerodynamics of lust. it's always like this. after, we exist for a few moments in a tangle of heightened nerves and slick limbs upon the bed sheets. i frequently imagine that the breeze from the ceiling fan gets caught in … Continue reading to what is lost in time
Nicolas Gonzales 