Do you remember, Wayne? (an epistolary from long ago) Ann WJ White When your kiss lightly touched my lips, you fled the room back to your world? You left me standing, holding my breath. Suddenly, I was aware you were gone for good, before you…

the fading wisps of smoke from a dying campfire are the sweetest dying embers sputter dousing sand sizzles   I miss that   we built a fire pit in the backyard of my old, small town home; thirteen-tons of flagstone and granite I moved from…

The first heart I ever broke was my own you could call it a ricochet I’ll go with stupid   though immature is a reasonable copout when I am feeling self-charitable   at nineteen, we were in love – not lust well defined lines obeyed…