I write will be delicious.
Your life as a canvas
Millions of moments have come and gone, although
We seek truth, demanding the right answer
It is often elusive as context changes
I moved from desert sand, the smell of creosote when it rained (I only recently learned the origin of the smell of desert…
I am returning to dreams
of my past,
There is a way that convey bad news,
she insisted.
I have notebooks for this and lists
Past versions of me.
There are often glimpses of a life that could be considered compelling.