Obsession

Obsession

What’s the measure of obsession – when beauty’s luster pales to gloom? Is it wasted flower petals, river boatwrecks under a moon? Is it love letters from baby turtles read aloud to bashful girls, Or earrings strung and pasted with paper clips and...
Orange

Orange

I’m in an orange stage of life. What it means, I’m not exactly sure, but I find myself accidentally or half-consciously or intentionally under the influence of orange. It fringes my days, creeping into my mind and coloring my mood with a burnished self-consciousness....