Tag Archives: Despy Boutris

I’ll never forget us entraining this freight at dusklight to escape cabbage farms, rusted barns and Bible-barkers who stumble through starrified nights. Will our fear follow us? We poach peaches off pallets and lick juicedrips off our lips like it’s … Continue reading →

The secret to sin is to do it in secret. We learned secrecy young— two girls taught to swallow our hunger— so we meet up at nightfall once the last lights have gone out. We walk down the roads, cursing … Continue reading →

I knew the dying was coming— knew her heart struck twelve because I couldn’t sleep, could only gaze out at the hallway, past my door as it creaked on its hinges, the wind outside the open window running its hands … Continue reading →

And still I’m traipsing through the fields of wildflowers and grass and foxtails. Beyond these fields are more fields and then more and then the cloudless sky. Bees hovering around coral-colored blooms, I make my way to the river, crowned … Continue reading →

Since your silence scares me, be roadkill, be oil spill, be the elevator that stalled on its way down. Let me learn to love the quiet; let’s learn to speak without noise. And since I despise tight spaces, locked doors, … Continue reading →