says the same and other poems by Edmund Sandoval
Maybe I’m in love with you. I say this in a diner. On the train car. In the boulevard. She says the same. Probably we’ve got secrets. Or maybe not. Does it [...]
grief
Mind Herbs by Ashlie Allen
He brought me herbs, though I was not sick in the body. No one could see where the illness lived except him. First, he stuffed the herbs inside my brain, then his hands. It [...]
Vending Machine Press 