If we were to meet along a deserted and silent Avenue? What would be my due? If Love walked in with visions of secretive beauty... What would my heart assign me to do? As though, Love lay in the off shadows of midday. Languished with only a name's sake. Could I have the courage to … Continue reading With Love at the Table
Underneath plush cover of cotton. A healing hand in repose. As if, a wanting to be disposed. I regard too much, while grasping the outstretched sleeping gesture. I ponder, 'too much love!' However, between the warming waves. There is an oft instinct to fit that love with a masking glove. Trials and tribulations sometimes, … Continue reading To Much Love
How organic to yearn for love? Then stand in its light. Such as, searching for the sun five minutes after midnight. More often than not, we stand by the radiance of a full moon. As though love will never give will to confinement. Or, by what is assumed.
Sunset is an angel weeping. Holding out a bloody sword. No matter how I squint I cannot make out what it's pointing toward. Sometimes you feel like you've lived too long. Days drip slowly on the page. You catch yourself... Pacing the cage. I've proven who I am so many times. The magnetic strip's worn … Continue reading Pacing the Cage
“Now I see the secret of making the best person: it is to grow in the open air and to eat and sleep with the earth.” Walt Whitman Upon, first sight, a tingling fear of the social orphan. The messenger from a village made of stone. She wore no 'safety' harness, while traveling … Continue reading the Secret to Making the Best Person