Most days, if we are being completely honest, I want to run inside my home and pretend the world doesn’t exist. Most days…
Rust in the fig tree,honey pearl at cuckoo’s nest.Your loves unguided.
We celebrate mothers
Heroes,cracked kids’ wardens,in his five year ether.Pioneer to their sober love:athlete.
Vigilsealed with a kiss,awake in our fume cloud,shattered into pieces inside.Then, throes.
Hurt silent dancersby the frozen blue river bank.Feet bidding good bye.
Streets in dim lights,tear drops splashing on ears. Does solstice hug close?
Black and white first kiss,Kodachrome gas clouds our kids,potters of grandstars.
Not quite any scent,your own dressing all my skin.Musk, wood, night, my man.