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In the slushy shine of winter mornings, The harsh, huffing breaths of a Hushed and harried engine heaving Its hoard of hearts and hopes Hastens the horizon, rushes The clicking clack on slickened rails
Canvas like spring flowers Easel built of sweat and blood Paint, the colors of memories Painting the picture there I see it's me. I take down the portrait for all to see "Hey, do you see that girl?"
Self Portrait as the Weeping Willow Reservoir in my eyes, current of my heart, snapped the twigs of my veins. The fear, I feel. From My head to my toes.
you won't find me in photographs packed in dusty tattered boxes.
Uneventfully I awoke. Unsurprisingly the sun beating hot on the single paned windows – Caused dew drops of moisture to form Dragging myself out of bed, Discarding one used shirt for another,
Skin like frozen glass Eyes in pewter casts My mouth writes an open invitation For you to explore The caverns these thoughts came from Opulecent iris Opaque navy eyelids
In the dead of night, crickets play their song. I lay on the cold dirt ground, while in your arms. Look up, you say. A diamond filled like sky. I see a smile.