Melissa O. Fuller
mother. writer. lover.
Category: Uncategorized
-
March 26, 2020 | 3:02 AM The sudden or violent start of something unwelcome such as war, disease disease disease, etc. Said Oxford as if Oxford was the name of a person not an Ox “Can animals get it too?” she asks “The virus?” “Is it everywhere?” Is it everywhere? It is everywhere and it…
-
January 16, 2020 | 1:37 AM Was I not born to find the love that we dream up? Was I not born out of love and cherry red kisses? Strawberry laced sweet nothings that tickle your ear and bring lobe to meet shoulder? Was I not in the line when God was handing out companionship?…
-
October 17, 2019 | 8:54 PM This guy he ran to me, calling out as if script scribe scrib was written on the left side of my chest. The driver he watched as I emptied limbs from white coat asked “Did anybody die today?” “Yes,” I say They’re all going to die. If not today,…
-
October 13, 2019 | 6:45 PM This guy I’m sure he saw it he looked at us back at the building, frantically then watched as we disappeared into the yellow. The driver his head turned 180 degrees when he heard her scream. Blood on her hands fright on his face the courage slowly leaving our…
-
May 17, 2017 | 10:23 AM This guy he wasn’t annoyed at my jumping into the carbefore him,for he couldn’t take my place tears, streaming long, from face. The driver said he’d seen a me, many times over. That I mustn’t be so lost,over things that were never mine to keep.If they were, they’d be with me.And although we…
-
May 16, 2017 | 10:59 AM This guy he waived to me as we pulled off. Lights that stay red for far too long, forging collision between the now and the daze. The driver he shifted view every 7 seconds. Mouth dripping with accent of tongue watching, as though eyes gave the Amen lips refused.…
-
June 27, 2019 | 9:50 AM There was a mark on the smallest pillow of the set. But if honesty is required, call a stain, a stain. I decided it was from a late night rendezvous with Oreo Ice Cream. The vanilla of it all would drip as you prioritized the chocolate crunch. Maybe a…
-
Art by Kwanna Wise I should be sitting across from him, at dinner, for the very first time. Legs crossed beneath the table, like a lady. Manicured nails, palm cuffed beneath the chin. Right hand. Four carat Diamond ring. Left. A restless sigh, blows the hair from my eye. I sit up straight, fingers tapping,…
-
I pulled my sweater up above & over his head. “What are you doing?” he asked. “I’ve captured you.” I whispered. I felt him in the dark. His eyes traced mine, nose lips chin. Fingers ran along the pronunciation of my collarbone eyeballs glazed over the familiar beauty mark placed gently in my sternal notch.…
-
September 22, 2017 | 3:10 PM There was that time he told me about ghosts and his beliefs or disbeliefs I couldn’t tell because he was drunk if you asked him he wasn’t but he was and I knew because his eyes were low lips on forest fire so I handed him a cup of…
Melissa O. Fuller 