We've almost all
outgrown...

& Whispers leech out of tight smiling mouths
as if it is a sin to be honest in this line of...

Every time I sit down to write
he lights a candle - saying that...

There's too much aching and breaking in this world
too many of us are made of porcelain and glass...

Somehow I seem to only find myself
living here in the Aprils of my youth...

Someone's packing their bags
which one of us will it be...

I found your lilies
and your roses...

There are things that cannot be
put into poems or words of beauty...

I have no idea
why I'm suprised...

My dear, darling painter,
You mix colors and...

supercalifragilisticexpialidocious
that's how it feels to be...

The words here
F l o w...