The U.N.S.C Spartans do not die
They have been through much and are still alive...
my throat pulsates while you nock
your words on your tongue...
Angel hair pasta
vinaigrette dreams...
A steady drizzle of rain dances
ceaselessly throughout...
...but I was never a dreamer
until you puffed into me...
the sun was caught
on a tree branch...
Think
of every cell in your body...
A few swift strokes of my pen
create verbal ecosystems...
What I appreciate & devour is this darkness...
as if I could stand when I can't recognize...
Living is not to learn
but it is to return...
crying
weeping...
like metaphors
undeciphered...