Latest Posts

Beauty Like That Knows No Home

They’re in close proximity, but they never touch. Once their fingers brush against one another; once skin makes contact, it becomes real. And when it becomes real, it’s over.

Nostalgic For My Old Summers

Growing up, summer meant that school was out, and all I really cared to do was pretend that I was a version of Britney Spears, strolling along Rockaway beach, singing the words to “Sometimes,” while envisioning my life as a pop star.

Christopher Street

He is sitting outside the local bagel café, reading the Village Voice, while casually lifting the blonde strands of hair away from his eyes.

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