Grounded to land vs. Riding the wave
Full of life
Silent things are not for conquering
The chapter on burning and touching
Premise: we are thriving off the lives that criss-cross around us, leaving paper trails.
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.
Deciphering the heart: distinguishing between fairytales and futures.
We take one hand, whilst letting go of another. How do we deal with the internal conflicts arising from these matters of the heart?
Becoming every colour can leave us gray, when the lights go down