how do I save you from the muck?the puddles you will find as you take your blithe steps
In this story, she still lives in a small room among the clouds. The castle is still her prison. There are no mice to…
the sun in that memoryframing your smiling faceback when you cared enoughto hide uncertainty
all I do-all I have doneto quiet my rebel thoughtsis cut you some slack
where do I place your love?
how do you lovesomething so incorrigible?
the poet insideis an insecta form of mutual exclusionfrightened and terrifying
I thoughtthat if I could find a wayto be smaller and smaller