Stealing That Storm In A Teacup

“To fall in love is to create a religion that has a fallible God”– Borges That year when summer butterflied into winter, I caterpillared into a thief. Your dialect was the first to go; its lilts transitioned into a guitar riff, which I sneakily secured inside my bones. The morphology of your mind I morphed… Continue reading Stealing That Storm In A Teacup