her, I

Spiraling to soil in deep, concentric circles,Yesterday's words seem to bloom asDaffodils or Sunflowers- Roses left unattended,Neatly kept under glass hoods, waiting patiently for years;Every new syllable seems to drip with intoxicating sensualityYes, a soft whisper for two: felt and never heard

What’s Beautiful

It's the comedown of it all. the after splash, falling back, air rushing out of faux down, feeling the thought rush in, remembering that sweat is a response to heat not a cause of it. That natural occurrences are sometimes all that are needed to peel our psyche away from the glass of existence and … Continue reading What’s Beautiful