They collect.
These words,A necessary lullaby now.The sleeping pill.
In the womb of a mothernourished with lovewe made it to this worldtreasured we wereyet we striveto feel lovedthe deepest of feelingsstill so…
A new dayLoud soundsDelicious smells
It’s not only when
I have a sip or two of wine
The wind dressedin petals necklace and asked,“Why hate colored?”