http://slow.writerscafe.org/JaredOrlando The original writings of author Jared Orlando en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776018848 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 The summer he lost his mindhe was two fingers intoa glass of Cherry Cokeand Lou Reed was threateningto take a walkon the wild side.We don’t know if he actuallytook this to heart,but the evidence he leftwas a book earmarked topage 160 of20,000 Leagues Under the Seaand a scratched out photoof a .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1662547/ On the day before you left for Venice
you gave me a dry, pressed rose,
rubbing it up against my palms,
hoping the last drabs of fragrance
would permeate my skin in your absence.You have always, at least to me,
been a flower placed in my own garden,
.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1430461/ With eyes that breach the air,
departing across the runway curves 
of a naked back, lifting off and
out through the open window
and onto the thin, cobbled street,
speckled with crowds scuffling,
walking straight while looking down.Continuing now wi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1413210/ Our time together has always beena shaky fingeron the sensitive triggerof a gunEvery night I find myselfplaying Russian rouletteas I tape photos of you withphotos of me and dreamI think to the timeswhen your mind would cross miles ofbleak landscapesjust to say helloI was brushingthe long curls of my.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1363912/ Do you ever think of having childrenfor the sole purpose of naming them?For perhaps taking them to Disneyland andleaving them at the entrance of Space Mountain?Giving them a lollipop bigger than their faceand watching them trot clumsily to the duck pond?Letting them take photos with all of the chara.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1363911/ I think a lot about your legs.How they fold in like a broken chair and extend out toward me like they are reaching for heaven.The way they moveabout my room and the way the sun light sprinkles and sparkles on them.I think of how they unknowingly stri.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1363910/ It was Wednesday and I gathered your tears up into a small pool and dove in fully clothed. The amount of sorries that dripped from your lips were abundant but delicious, and you’d think I would’ve drowned but instead, I quenched my thirst and kissed the remainder right back into your ski.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1354482/ Is thistoo fastfor you?Bringing youbreakfast in morning,orgasms in evening;Should I have notsmiled at you?I’m justreading themoment.Reading theverses onyour calf muscles.If youweren’t readyfor love,you would’venever kicked offyour heels andbreathed in deeply.I know itbecause i.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1354480/ Everything at once.Overflowingstorm drainsof feeling.A world spottedwith peoplelike damsbursting atthe seams.We relyon our heartsfor heat,revolving aroundthem like ourown starin our chest.Everything at once.Making ourskies overcastedat the merethought ofquiet.We areflooding;we areclouded;foreverreac.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1354479/ She wakes me up with FrenchKissing the insides of my mouthClimbing my bones like the Eiffel stairsDrinking my breath like espressoIn the afternoons, she’s SpanishChasing me around like a matadorHer fingers like El Greco’s paintbrushWhile her body flamencos above meWhen night falls, we sp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1341549/ We met under the most perfect circumstancesFalling under the spell of breakers that soaked our clothingBreathing in air saturated with skeletons of discarded sea lifeThere were fishermen in Patagonia hats pulling sharks out of the oceanAnd as we ducked and dived and the gulls tried to take our eyesY.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1336406/ Every morningI make enough coffeeFor two.There are placematsOn my repurposed breakfast tableLarge cups on saucersThe sun burning through the blindsThrowing diagonal linesUpon the floorTurning the kitchen intoA cage of lightAloud I speak of financesOf the drops in the tradesI mention how my parentsAr.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1334218/ What I would doto haveyour every wordtattooed deepinto my skinScattered twistedvining phrasesspiraling jostlingebony letteringLet me wakelet me sleepto your remindersLet me wakelet me sleepwith the wayyour mind worksTo be etched andpermanently stainedby youEvery mirror I passI seeyour loveon my wris.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1326822/ Sometimes I wake to the feeling of fingers running along the insides of my ears and I know, I know it’s absolutely crazy but every time I do, and you must understand I always do, I can hear you even whispering about the way the hair on my face zigzags as if every strand is trying to individual.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1325598/ I’d rip out my lungs so you could nest inside my chest cavity. You can sleep and dream under my rib cage and use my weak heart palpitations as a noise machine.Listen to the blood bubble and rush through my veins and use its warmth to make your eyelids soft and lazy and you can stretch your.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1325206/ Floors speckled inBits and flakes of cardboardThe scent in the airSoured and sweetThe smile wrappedAround her lipsWhen his distant pawsPitter right behind the doorAnd then it comes..The scratching.Etched into a once silent airNow bursting with theWant to stay in,The curiosity to go out,To explore th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1321453/ It’s because I’m short isn’t it?I’m the same sizeAs when you met me,You know.That’s not a thing thatChanges overnight.Is it because I snore? I barely snore.Do I even snore?I should record myselfAnd seeIf I snore or not.Is it Mark?Do you love Ma.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1320641/ There are days whenWe get so nervous thatOur listlessness transforms andWe remove all of the sleevesFrom our hardbound booksStacking them tall, weClimb upon them to nip the moonWith the tips of our chapped fingersWe scoop into its craters untilThe smiles on our faces Can be seen from the Androm.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1319869/ You always wanted a house of windowsMismatched panes, borrowed and repurposedPaint chipping off and flaking downLike pine cone seeds in the windYou would be able to watch the worldAnd it could watch youAnd never once did you thinkThat within the night there was a chanceIt would all shatterBut now yo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1317699/ The way your nails look against your favorite coffee mug every morning The way you can’t sit still and forever fidget switching the way your legs are crossed The way one of your eyes blinks making you look as though your mind is taking picturesThe way you force your ha.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1312623/ The last thing I rememberBefore waking in a wooden boxWas that I was falling asleepAgainst a craning treeWatching the sun barely peeking outAnd I recall the feel of The dew on the grassThe tops of my legs getting Baked by the coming dayThe look in her eyes(Violent hurricanes spinning in ea.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1311601/ I promised you a whole heap of thingsUnhooking the moon from the skyI’d place it in front of you and watch yourSmile in the glow of itWe proceeded to open empty, tattered booksAnd upon the pages we watched asPolaroids appeared, and inside themWe were dancing with firefliesAmongst small lantern.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1311029/ Out of nowhere, a finger appearsPushing my glasses in when theySlide slowly down my nose as I’m speakingEverything will then refocusAnd I find her flaunting a smile that wouldBring entire nations to their kneesWith my lips searching and pressing Against the soft creases of her neckShe rec.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1305824/ Loving you put aFire in my bellyLike atop the wooden stave of aWanderer in the forestI would carry it with meMy chest beamingThe insides of my mouthGlowingAmber and infraredI would parade thisBeautiful light inside meThrough the streetsLike a luminescent celebrationBut thenWithout a warningThe winte.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1298370/ what art is to youisn’t art to mefor I’ve found thateven in the way you smileyou do things to methat galleries cannotthat mixing paint cannotand I’d hold you inthe most beautiful framebut I’d rather set you freeso I can touch you whenever possibleas you’re a sight .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1294010/ The story touches on a dark topic, but in no way expresses actual thoughts of my own. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1287107/ I picture monarch butterflies on your collarbonesPerched on the tiny hairs of your stomachThe patterns on their wings reflecting backIn your eyes as orange and black fragments -I carefully pursue laying my lipsSoft enough not to disturb the quiet -I observe as your face becomes like fallAnd in order.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1284463/ During longing, mid-morning sips of coffeeShe asked me why I came back aroundWaking with the boot prints on my cheeksMy brown hair parted, matted to my foreheadAs my thoughts visit the nights I layBloodshot, my knees bleeding onto the sheets from Being inebriated and falling into rose bushesThe.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1281811/ I watched vicariously as youChanged my shape as if IWas as delicate as watercolorBlending green tendrils of self-doubt intoRed puddles of "ifs", "maybes", intoFanning blue depths of memoryYour paint stricken hands clinchEyes clamp shut, somewhereI'll reach out to graze your lashesYou see, you create.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1279137/ My slightly dulling midnight black dress shoes Scuffed alongside the subway tracksKicking up dust particles into the airMouths were flapping but all sound was taken outReplaced with the metallic screeches of a human vesselI could’ve reached out and touched your fingers while you passed,&n.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1277570/ From yards away I could see a face Reflected on the hardcover sleeve of Kafka on the ShoreBack upright against a weathered benchShe was staring at the waterWatching the crests break into themselvesShe wore a brick red dressSpeckled with sweet, small white flowersHer wrists covered with bands an.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1277347/ I watched the sunlit lines on bed sheetsDance within the morning hoursFrom you tossing and turningSweetly and gracefullyOn a bed we madeAnd I watched as long white curtains Flailed, awakened by a clip of winter windMaking alive the dust that settled aroundA sea of brushes and bo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1277318/ Sitting in a chair next to a vacant streetStrapped, eyes forced open by Coat hangers (my coats line the yard)Hands that resemble an older man’sBound and lifeless, bloodlessBeads upon my brow drip past my eyesFor seconds I’m blind, and then The vacant road again; I can feel&nbsp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1272913/ I fall in loveEvery single dayThe girl workingAt the ice rink sales counterThe magazine coverThe billboard above the liquor storeA 3rd grade teacherA mother of threeA friend of a friendA friendWith old flamesOld flingsIs anyone safe?All possible future companionsI think of sleepingOf waking upNext t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1272303/ It is in the incompleteness of the quietOf a distant solitary branch fallingEver so lightly on a single bed of snowAs everything pitters or patters A creak under the feet of anotherIs shrouded in the ambience of Cicadas while tiny bouts ofWind circle in placeI watch the shadows of the flam.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1272282/ We are on our way--Instead of the road, I watch whileShadows are casted from our surroundingsProjected into your incandescent eyesI'm watching Audrey Hepburn, black-and-white,Dancing wildly in the guise of trees bendingOver our travels; and thus I see forbidden roads;I point them out as you unconsci.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1272272/ you are a cabin in the woodsa place I long forto escape the loudnessin the streetsa warm sanctuaryaway from the tallswaying buildings downtownI must be nestledamongst the Douglas firsas you'd welcome me a weary travelerto build a fireto flick off the dustoff of a side table bibleset alive the g.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JaredOrlando/1272269/