I told him that wouldn’t be a good idea either.

His lips are familiar. I know the shape of them, know how to make mine fit against them. His taste is familiar too. For all the illusions and colors and sweet smells… he has always...

Tell freedom I said hello.

It’s quiet for a while, and then Rowan says; “We could talk now. We’re alone out here. No walls.””There are always walls.” I say.

He looks at me, and I don’t know what he sees. I used to think it was Rose. But she’s not here with us now, in this room. It’s just him and me, and the...

I don’t dare touch her. Loss is a knowledge I’m sorry to have. Perhaps the only thing worse than experiencing it, is watching it replay anew in someone else–all the awful stages picking up like...