Tag: longing


it was as if all of every summer's heat had sunk into the worn boards of the porch twenty years ago and I would do more than simply sit beside you and tell tales but here and twenty years backwards, I'll admit to seeing the … Continue reading porchlight


boating at night

the boat of course is metaphor though it is, undeniably, night and fingers do trail over the side, but also over stern and bow it is also true that we do move as water - that hair cascades and skin ripples but that again is … Continue reading boating at night


that absence hangs around, a lone note held – b-flat drifting long after the tables have emptied a blind man would have known to find a way away from you but fire makes us stupid and before this space was vacant it. was. on. fire. … Continue reading 2.20.2015


I am a bewilderment of limbs - a profusion of uncomfortable truths - and as a result, am ungainly beside you all twisted fingers and benumbed tongue but lit up inside by fireflies © Sarah Whiteley