Your winter gust is a firestorm
that burns the chambers of my heart...
I am voiceless
in your pioneering mind...
as much wind you can gather in your lungs,
i want you to scream my name one last time...
I let you, all leaves, fall.
I refill the cuts...
I was thrown across
Omaha, hitting the...
what draws you near? is it the fragrance that
happened to waft by you, or the deeply carmine...
those who dream from inflated air
with cornucopia ribcages, gorging...
I'm not broken yet.
I am but a maimed heart...
sometimes, i liken you to a songbird
carrying with them – the sweetest song...
as your voice spills into the room,
waking the silence from its gentle...
Vagrancy often visits my doorstep
and talks and talks of...
time swims non-linearly in a vast ocean.
i bring palms together, and cup the water...