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In another life, I’d be a painter, an architect, someone who rummages through antiques and builds vintage beauties bejeweled contraptions, no real purpose. In another life, I’d be a busker, a savant on the guitar, a manic nightwalker whispering lewd melodies in virgin ears. I’d be your underbelly. Your shadow. Your pulse. Through the vines, … Continue reading



I’m not a Disney princess, And I’m not a showgirl either, That one time I dabbled in burlesque, I fell, and fell, and bled a little puddle. It’s too bad, though, because that yearning to be a ballerina has plagued me for quite some time, Not sure if it’s the poetic tip-toes, Or the ribbon, … Continue reading