Hard Evidence

A room walled-in by books where the hours withdraw.


At the foot of an unmade bed a bird of paradise.


Motel carpet melted where an iron had been.


His attention anchored to a late night glory hole.


Of janitorial carts no heaviness like theirs.


Desire seen cavorting with the yes inside the no.


A soul kiss swimming solo in an open wound.


The self as church where the whores now gather in.

by Timothy Liu

Comments (0)

There is no comment submitted by members.