My coffee may be a little more bitter
(sugar withheld for health and weight...
The now docile hillside is speckled with remnants
Of weathered skin tones of diluted mixtures...
While clutching me with icy claws
I fear my fragile heart to pause...
Death by rains.
No exclamation...
THE SECRET THOUGHTS OF AN OLD OAK TREE
I yawn as once again comes the balmy springtime...
Going to shake my inner world.
Inconsolable is the loss...
You walk on burning embers
like a black stone...
She's known to the World
As a Weeping Willow...
He was not ready
for a stash of negligees...
It was
a killing line...
Alive
Flickering hearts...
Look to the night sky
see the stars twinkle...