ambiguous transparency: curves bent to fit the tracks.
The room is full of myself, broken
pieces of my words floating soundlesslybecause they have no tales to tell
and I am in my car full of Texas heat,
driving down Loop 1 and hoping to hit
the second looped highway but it ends
at Slaughter Lane slaughtering my thoughts.I keep thinking that I must…
Porter's Notebook: Rain Drops and Silence
As I rode the right hand side of the cab’s back seat home, the empty space next to me felt like a rebuke. You weren’t in it, filling the seat with you weight, the air with your scent, your words, your breath.
We sped down to 23rd, me and the silence next to me, and I thought about how sweet it…
