a sunday walk

when i was young,

every Sunday my mother

would walk with me

to church

disguised as a Chinese bakery.

we would tear into the

pink box & find God

in pork buns & egg tarts

& we took turns

tearing from loaves

stories with neither

beginnings nor ends.

walking back i was

tugged past a thin man

in one of grandma’s nighties                

who I called the Priest

& his watcher who

choked cigars in a lawn chair

on the porch.

threadbare gown & scarved head

the Priest would look up from

watering petunias

whose petals wrapped

secrets

& smile

a jagged skyline.

face cleft by canyons,

his bones sang of

discord &

bleach.

mother didn’t have answers

to what i would ask,

but each time reminded me

that “men who lay with men

were certain to receive

justice.”

i would continue on

& walk between

tree branches hanging

thin

like arms

off the sides of the

sky-bed.

palms up;

seeking forgiveness.

later i am brave

& i walk to church

with only a bulb on

my tongue

& find a silhouette aching

in windows bandaged

with plea-deal prayers

with Jesus

& the Devil

& hear the whisper-weep of

the petunias’

leather skin.  

i get my pink box

of God

& hurry.

the last time i go

to church

i just pass by

empty-handed

& watch the thin man

lip a cigar

& water dead

petunias                      

         in-justice.

Blurred Lines (Smut)

MASTERLIST

A/N: Celebrating Shawn’s birthday. Feedback is always lovely. 

Word count: 4,518

Shawn and I had been living together for a little over four months now. Since Shawn agreed to letting me crash for a week while looking for something new after being kicked out of my dorm, things we didn’t count on happened between us and suddenly, we were practically roommates and enjoyed each other’s company for hours a day. 

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One Track Mind
  • *221B*
  • Sherlock: *working*
  • John: *sitting in his chair, tapping his leg; bored*
  • Rosamund: *colouring; looks up* What's wrong, Daddy?
  • John: *raises an eyebrow* Have you noticed lately...your Uncle manages to make every conversation about your Aunt?
  • Rosamund: *giggles* Really?
  • John: *nods* Watch *clears his throat; leans around his chair* hey, Sherlock? What time is that client due?
  • Sherlock: *still looking through the microscope* Four thirty. Half an hour before my wife's shift ends.
  • John: *gestures*
  • Rosamund: *happily* Ooh, lemme try *excited* Uncle Sherlock, on the way home from school, I saw a squirrel and- and it runned up a tree!
  • Sherlock: *looks up; smiles* That's nice.
  • Rosamund: ...
  • Sherlock: ...
  • Sherlock: *softly* Molly likes to feed the squirrels. We go to the park especially *goes back to work*
  • Rosmund: *grins at her dad* That's love, bitch.
  • John: ...
  • Rosamund: *goes back to colouring*

cupid hit me

a reddie mix

listen here

clumsy - fergie // sunday candy - donnie trumpet // walking on a dream - empire of the sun // two ghosts - harry styles // give it to me right - melanie fiona // you da one - rihanna // this side of paradise - coyote theory // sparks - coldplay // out of my league - fitz and the tantrums // tongue tied - grouplove // the 1975 - the 1975