A Caffeinated Writer

A whistle sounds off from the stovetop,  and the aroma of coffee overwhelms me as I pour myself another espresso.  Caffeine is worth gold in my home,  so my clumsy hands are careful not to spill. spill like the stories trickling down from my fingers, late at night when I am overflowing,  covering white spaces…

Night Owl

Half past five.I have never been known to be good at goodbye,perhaps that is why every day I struggle to part ways with the night.Some might say I am too comfortable in the embrace of the dark.I stay up to share secrets with the moon and stars.They have been intimate friends of mine for such a long time,Always I can counton their daily companionship.

Origin Story

somewhere on an islandin the middle of the Caribbean seayou will find three gravesthat tell the story of a broken familytorn and devastated by civil warlike the country they called home they were called “gusanos”“worms” is what it meansthe name for known rebelspersecuted by men in uniformfor not sharing their ideologyuprooted like a palm tree from the home…

Memories

You are the lead character in all my favorite memories.I keep our stories boxed away on the top shelf of my brain,in safe keep, just out of sight from all the clutter of the day to day.But not so far out of reach, so that I might still always have their comfort on the occasional rainy day.I can…

Thin Line

It is only a thin lineor so they saythat separates love from hate.You and I tread it lightly.Often crossing it over then back again.At times, we linger on ita little too longbecause the truth is,some dayswe are neither here nor there.