This is Me

I live for little moments. This is what the blog is about.

Saturday, March 19, 2022

thereness

 

beyond the fields of reference

with their words, and tropes

and inference,

we’ll wind our way into the woods

and sit under the trees,

our eyes glowing with the fire of stars,

the wind rustling the leaves

(soft fingers in the hair).

 

my left hand on a feline

your right on a canine,

we’ll breathe-in the world,

undo the time,

and, cradled into the arms of the night,

just be there.

 

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