Along the marijuana scented streets of San Francisco State University, evening classes, students clump along Holloway Avenue, smokers come out from behind parking meters that stand as centurions. Houses glitter
Beachcomber, the sting of salt water on your wings grey garbage collector raking portions from the undertow of my thoughts.
I rendezvous with my online dates at either one of two places. The first is near Lake Merritt in Oakland, which provides ample time to sniff each other out and
A word sings past a chime of cascading leaves flows outside a slight breeze cousin to the first breath two syllables a holy mantra bathed in cries shuttling life across
I’m not proud about online dating. Why would I want to brag about trying to find loving companionship after searching through profiles and photographs and exchanging emails for much too long? The
One evening as I was minding my own email, an online dating site informed me that I had a message. I clicked a link from successfulman56 and read, “Hello beautiful.” Anyone who calls
I invite you to my website.