The intention might have been there, the tools, the motive; absentee mind, colloidal…
The orchard was fragrant and slouched in the wind.I had lost my sense of time,And each break betweenUtterances seemed endless. A…
Yesterday, you were burnished goldAnd honeyed cinnamon,You were the starlit imaginingsOf anointed seers, the Sacré CoeuxOf our budding love.