I wish to disappear for a while, and then again. I want a sumptuous, rosy weekend (expenses paid, expenses earned), destination: anywhere but here. A jaunty saunter through haunted streets, the full moon my compass to heaven. Bouquets every morning. It’s all mine. Nights feel like the call of the wild, a call to the… Continue reading II.
Category: blog
I.
I’m exchanging intimacies with the Notes app since God knows when, the kind that makes me a poet still after all this time. I think I recognize myself again. I want to get to know her. In the hum of slow traffic, I’m blasting the music that made me feel alive when I needed it… Continue reading I.
Arielle Tipa - writer / editor 