I write will be delicious.
Each morning
The house is lonely, silent, and shuttered.
Once again I am consumed by thoughts of all
It was there where I met you
Grounded.
Feet on the ground, easy breath.
The mind is a wondrous thing, creating narratives from nothing, reaching back into the years to pull one tiny nugget of a…
We seek truth, demanding the right answer
It is often elusive as context changes
I recognize myself in you
pieces that are broken