Poor soul.Bless her soul.Soul-mates.Chicken-soup for the soul.S.O.S. How easily we say “soul”. It was a soul-stirring......

1. I can still taste lifeEarly morning, late evening, whenever in-between. Gold streams my morning door......

Story is metaphor for life and life is lived in time” – Robert McKee Time that......

conjunction a massacre visible to the naked eye just sunset a stranded necklace...

without stopping at the river rearrangedbeneath my window, the road winds upinto the faceless distance, bending......

In front of my eyes, the searises to new heights. The language of the sea isprivate,......

I leave the trousers and the underwear in their tanglenuzzling one another in the embrace of......

How vulnerable you become,how fragile.Bouts of anxiety creep inevery day, every night. Healing becomes a myth,when......

Tonight the fever burns brightThe symmetry of bones visibleLike loops of tiger-light. A black swallow collects......

I knock on your door armedto scream back, to hearthe perennial excuse: I amworking—at the cornertable of......