Past Life

Past Love

I feel your hunger, never knowing your touch.

Has Passed

For boundless seasons she is quiet,
Undisturbed amongst overgrown brush;
A capsule of elegance coated
in debris and dried hints of panic.

POETRY

I am but a Wanderer

I am but a Wanderer
born upon these lands.
Made to feel foreign or
less when leased…

A Fountain of Hope

Micropoetry

I am stringing all the 
wayward yesterdays 
that led me astray 
into an…