Space —

These walls, they’re bare. Bare as the heart that I had once filled and full. These walls, with a fresh coat of paint and patched up holes. No longer barren, no longer bare. You’ve lost your home. You’re pacing wooden floorboards, new. Creaks from once before, lost to what it was. You’re aligning paintings where photo frames were once hung. You’re full, you’re filled; the chicken sandwich with dill, half in the refrigerator and half in you. You’re a hollowed-out soul with…

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Corliss Cheng

Corliss Cheng

an artist writing, a writing artist; a creative pending life’s mysteries and understandings, with reality mixed in: corlisscheng.info