.....Bliss
....native...
Perched
on the precipice...
Submerged in silence
braking molds of life...
My fingers trace your golden glow
Though years have worn you through...
Yesterday's Shadows
O' heart that spirals endlessly...
Not all of me will die
When death...
Amazed at the depth of his understanding
His insight into a weakened heart...
Pondering amidst a colossal crowd,
wondering within a jostle sound...
To read a poem
Is to enter the writer's psyche...
[Not exactly how I feel.]
Light feathery clouds like balls of cotton candy...
Infatuation
It feels just like a dream...
Lost love? Please, that's not what this is about.
I'm searching for true love, not dreading my past...