I haven't yet figured out
how I will take this Sunday...

Around the river bend she twirls...
wondering when the trace of dawn...

A little rain for you and I...
it's all I long for...

Remember me
for the moments where trees...

The fringes of my skin
are undeviating...

It's such a quiet day
when I am not flustered...

~
I yearn to hate the night, to grimace...

Collaring my wrist, taking veins
that murmur like violins...

I feel like I can see people, not turning away
when I see the quietness about them or the...

It is a new day
when there are no...

Glissading down toward
pottery...

When is the last time that artistry has
exposed me for who I took the chance...