This glowing night of sanguine hips
In glowing nights of sanguine hips, we shed our last maracas tears; to sway away when sun has slipped. From burning cheeks, mascara drips, but doom of dawn is not […]
In glowing nights of sanguine hips, we shed our last maracas tears; to sway away when sun has slipped. From burning cheeks, mascara drips, but doom of dawn is not […]
Writing about living in two places (and times)
Poems & Stories from The Author Stew
practising for a whole life
haikai poetry matters
Running in the slow lane
The view from here ... Or here!
“Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.” — Albert Einstein
chronicling my quarter life crisis