I'll just say I'm making a push for everything on this site. Please don't get upset at the comments I might make. Constructive criticism, folks. This is a writing website so I don't understand all of the social stuff going on. I'm sorry if I don't comment on your pictures. I'm here to write and better myself and maybe others.

Here are a couple of stories:
Read these for a good time.

Streamers tied on the neighbor's pink handlebars,
Her hair curled in ribbon.

Pinacate beetles attached themselves to one another,
Giving and taking defensive postures.

You would fist dough into submission,
Then offer it an hour to rise.

Crickets, cresting scabs in our grass, waited to play
A capella once the sky when dim.

The dark orange night stained
itself onto our house.

Under the wheel wells rust
Crept into the steel graveyard across the street.

We used to wait for stone angels
To open their silt wings.

Our dusty television set flickered,
Burning white specks onto the screen.

Stars showed little radiance our first years,
But you counted them like hopscotch.

I added with you until we grayed,
And I collapsed.

We used to cleave to each other
Until you stopped counting.