A poem
Holy DaysHoles in the dazeBetter fill them somehowIndulgenceMuscle memoryIt’s generationalThe…
plush my soft feathersfinger my soulgaze at my skin with your touchpiñata my poppies…
Tell me of them.Those who woke your shy smilekindled the warmth once so strident in…
Do it for yourself!
Clouds dancingacross the mountain peaks,kissing the topslike a peckon the cheek.
I