Oh god, this dark evening This rhyme this phone this time. Make your life out of this! Make you place from this! Clothespin what you love. Listen, oh this cove, this heart, this beat beat. beat. I’ll tie my hair because you love my neck and watch as the colors seep to who knows. I know it’s the call to all. Oh the call to all! It’s Friday and someone is praying, oh listen to their...
There are two kind of travelers. There is the kind who goes to see what there is...– Adam Gopnik, Paris to the Moon
On the morning of my release
And the wood cracks and cracks and snaps and when the leaves begin to fall like splinters of themselves I miss what was When the light is new it rises and lifts and applauds our youth and hair and skin And in that moment you looked so gold Truths were told and folded and beholded when the sky was something grey like a wolf that only wanted to sleep, not eat And inside wanted outside...