Opalescent smile— Rosy cheeks— Enchanted lover.
I’ve been peculating the parts of you every evening and storing them in my soul’s jar everytime I peek into the jar The parts of you— diffuse into the gloomy air
I strolled along a crooked road, the journey was so long. I had to pack for 30 days and sang a month of songs. The trees were all so very tall. The sun, it shone so bright. I wasn’t sure I would be found again…
Few yellow pages, Some sun-kissed words, One bright, buoyant and beautiful prose.
I’ve asked a million times to pick up your room but you Always leave it to the last nano second Good thing nobody Ever Visits.
It’s like you dissected me, exposed me, beginning with the heart and slowly working backward through the ribs, the dermis Your idea of love is a poem you’ll never write. then outward leaving notes in my skin with your scalpel and delete line after line…
I assume she’d tired of her nest. Maybe she just felt like the patio was best. Less stress. She is very protective of the place. Not sure why she would need so much space. Just not commonplace. She runs everyone out of her patio room….
Dad wonders if all this banding of birds and tagging of ears creates selection pressure in favor of jewelry But with microbeads The Great Garbage Patch Spinning in the Pacific And asphalt to go by, It won’t be good
a forest painted on a glazed china cup is no less lifeless than a forest choked by auto exhaust. prompt 20