Our Laughter
Afterwards. When only veins remain, when the bursting buds of love, the “yes” and tingling taste of flesh has faded, there is silence. Today. Fine lines of sorrow etch your […]
Afterwards. When only veins remain, when the bursting buds of love, the “yes” and tingling taste of flesh has faded, there is silence. Today. Fine lines of sorrow etch your […]
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