Grounded to land vs. Riding the wave
Silent things are not for conquering
The slopes that rise and fall With our breath between them Are a sihloutte of green hips On the horizon: Suspended across the skies In an effortless sprawl, They are wild thighs To the wondering mind As a pen is to paper The incarnation of daydreams.
Matter born of mind is never strictly unnatural
I have a vision of the shapes and words needed To say that I remember when we perched on secret ledges; The edges of a branch never broken but bonded By the pledges we made in the night time, To fly together. The sky saw us dance with stars and sing a salute, Farewell to […]
The lavender whispers That relief is long overdue, And listens to the fears that fester in my fingertips Illuminating, In their ill disposition, A denial of the dreams that sit within the willow trees. Tickled by the sorrow, only, Of our weeping limbs, The plant supposes All of us that make sights with pens Will […]