“Your voice, an evening in late June, ice losing its edges in a jar of tea.” — Warren Heiti Coffee Copy Share Image
“The sky bruised my eyes with rain's weight and my body was a held breath.” — Warren Heiti Rain Copy Share Image
“The handless clock trying to hold the hour of death, salt in the last mouthful of water. The windows opaque with silence,… — Warren Heiti Death Copy Share Image
“The taste of chalk. The sun lays its copper thumbs on my eyelids. The radio plays the monologue of a dog. What… — Warren Heiti Chalk Copy Share Image
“Mute, I stumble through the dry, verdigris aqueducts of your eye, thinking this prayer, formic acid, ant spit and sandpaper: blink and… — Warren Heiti Blink Copy Share Image
“The mind is moored to others; the wasps orbit on little tethers of light.” — Warren Heiti Light Copy Share Image
“I stand there at the corner, known by the equinox and knowing nothing, exposed by the alethic light of those apples, that… — Warren Heiti Trees Copy Share Image
“You are not a god, though you are hostile as a god, inhospitable and anonymous as a metropolis, your grey and single-… — Warren Heiti Narcissism Copy Share Image
