I Carry a Torch for You and It’s Agonizing
or, After You’re Gone
Aug 3, 2020
When my hands rumble in the night,
in the darkness for your skin – know:
this ache is a taste like a memory
I will hunger in hordes to forget.
When my hands rumble in the night,
in the darkness for your skin – know:
this ache is a taste like a memory
I will hunger in hordes to forget.
I am a St. Louis-based writer. I live with a wonderful woman and our cat. My serial, “The Mother from White Letters,” can be found on Kindle Vella and Wattpad.