All Posts By: Byron McCoy

        She watched her daughter on play on floor on dig, search, and scatter of books from basket where they kept.            Viewing, she thought how life was full of stories and, like stories and books in basket’s store, she wondered which ones in life she would choose: to read, to […]

        Hands as actors, story as spark, she felt the yellow burst in warmth of touching to her part; love story of his hands, writing to her skin.  Delicate, lovely—touching—closing eyes in warmth of bliss, mouth’s welcome to his kiss, she opened greater, inviting all and whole of story’s write upon and in her […]