you.

you  who had begun running much too fast  much too early head down against the wind  that so desperately wanted …

Soft Gold

Red: draped ‘round my neck. The tenderness, the itchiness. Beneath the midnight canvas whispered secrets; promises glimmered like celestial constellations. …

Ruin

Spin   Read his head like a bounty.  Set a price on his face.  Spit back, quick scan, hides his …

Of Grief

Desperately clutching a hope that proved false, face contorted into a smile like a  wilting lycoris as words landed  with …

The Smell

The smell. It comes from nowhere, no origin For whether it was being or illusion, Even metacognition offers no solution. …