Words in the Wind
soft summer air skies tinted pastel orange the breeze tickles my face
When am I?
When am I alive? The ink line separating me from my mother Smudged by nature’s thumb
Sorry, you can’t hang your hat here. So please, hold on to your headwear.
I stumble into the room, fumbling over sensible greetings
Everything I Ever Hoped For
Dreams turned to memories; Golden, like pictures in the ocean sunset; It was everything I ever hoped for
Swipe, swipe, left-right, swipe, This one, that one, they’re all hype.
Heavens on Sunday March
White concrete poured poorly, The edges pink and undercooked.
Summer & Winter
She was right. I don’t know what love is I’ve seen it, and received it, but never given it Or...
Listen to the rhythm of the Bang bang bang, To the sounds and the dance of this Din