Literature
ripples on a blank shore (#15)
in rainbows
with a petrichor veil;
you've caught my breath
in palms covered
in dandelions' dust,
my longing,
an uncovered explosion
of drafts hidden
from the both of us.
but i reach out,
knowing wind-chime
silence is a possibility
as it has always been;
knowing the doldrums
of my harrowing echoes
could be the only
reality i'm pressed against,
but i'm more than willing
to risk my heart
and expose it to the weight
of sorrow
if there's a sliver
of a shot
that we can be together.
suspended in the contingency
of the unknown,
i hope your wrung hands
red with distortion
& blue with disappearance,
make your way back
to the greying soles of my
