writer-artist-thinker-reader

Okay, so as I was trying to fall asleep last night because like most of us, I have to get up and work for a living, I thought about a short story I could write, how I would change my introduction to my next novel idea, the poem I wanted to write over the weekend
You ask what my tongue would feel like, but I don’t have a suitable answer. No, not now. Maybe, never. These games you play, alone at night, I hear about them the next morning. Let me know when they stop. You ask where my hands would rest, but I can’t tell you. The

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