Monthly Archives: April 2014

Red Geraniums

My grandmother’s house smelled of dust and cedar.  Of Nina Ricci perfume with hints of Johnson’s Baby Powder and Bain de Soleil.  I still smell it.  I still see her salty grey hair, her curls gone wild, her lips never … Continue reading

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I hope that when he goes it is peaceful. That death will take his hand ever so gently and lead him out into the night. I hope it feels like your first kiss, all butterflies and stardust. I hope he … Continue reading

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it is raining and i am missing you i can hear the drops echo on the windowsill they sound hollow and empty the same way i feel you should be here with me  to hear me sigh  to watch the … Continue reading

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