An unfinished poem lies in the lines of his palm; earthy and ambiguous […]
An encore. Could anything be more delicious than the sky pale blue smudged […]
Whatever happens, happens once. It’s ephemeral like passing mist. Somewhat like the taste […]
Amaranth red, the morning parts her lips stretching ever outwards into the rich […]
Red lipped, I wait like spring-tide as salt grass and anemone blossom in cycles […]
