When relationships had become as routine as the heat of summer, she finally brought a change
Orange you glad I didn’t say banana.
A child’s blue shoelace, Constantly tied in double knots,
Like her open heart
With bows on.
"Did Man Really Walk The Moon?"
Night, then light, the night again…
Wet eyelids collapse, shutting tightly like moth wings, preparing for flight
—When did you last cry?
The Little Gypsy.
Waiting for a sunset.