Or so she thought. Really, her feelings toward teas came from her habitual need to fit in with groups. She… Read more She liked teas.
Skin on skin we move In innate patterns and waves That make us human.
Have we begun to count now? Or have we always…begun…to…count? Limits placed upon us by pacing numbers — causing a… Read more 9 times.
Here, I stand; with two things that which make me whole: an open heart and an open body. Both, eager… Read more Open, willing.
He’s old — not too old, but old enough to struggle with the two large bags he lugs around, every… Read more He feeds the stray.
She is untouched delicacy and tenderness. To be admired from afar, to the likeness of the rose in the bell… Read more That rose.
A disarrayed mess I become, as you stay calm And take over me. – Jessa
It was time — For her to experience drowning. For too long she wondered when it would come; Wishing, hoping,… Read more Succumb to drown.
Last night, I dreamt I found a four-leaf clover. But every time I looked at it, it started to morph… Read more Clover musings, of a sort.
I sat across this old woman on the bus once, whom I followed for reasons I am still unsure. She,… Read more The woman inside the moth-eaten skirt.