"If Only We Were In California"

Behind abandoned buildings found through a maze of shifting alleys without outlets, you are my Manson, I your Crenwinkle sitting in the dark cross-legged, high on smoke and the adventures spilling from your mouth; stories so tall and absurd they are nearly believable. I watch the theatrics of your hands, convinced, coupled with your cold hard, unflinching stare realizing how the power of suggestion moves wayward girls. Aleathia Drehmer 2007 Published by Zygote in My Coffee Print #4