the art of falling

drenched in the mire of method and mayhem like sun-spotted fawns running the grounds of heaven, we are ignorant; something in my veins drifts to that of maple but requires no pump against gravity; ocean eyes bless me with happiness today. my feet are more wrinkled now than on thursday when we were playing in […]

sommeil chéri

this may be paradise and i do not know it; her in my arms, head on my chest, and her hand holding a soft cloth… rubbing it gently between her fingers. anything is possible as the rose still blooms. this is a bad example as some flowers eat meat. they still glide through God’s mind […]