Your clothes lay in a pile on the floor of the room. They mirror me. I imagine you rummaging through them to find desired selections, leaving the remainders a limp and sprawling heap in the corner.
A familiar trailhead presents itself.
I wonder how fate is chosen.
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Vacancy
March 9, 2019
(birds chirping)
I wish you were here, my love
Staring at the empty space above
As above below, I sleep with doors and windows open
room beside me
I wish...
Mt. Hermon
March 9, 2019
When I wake I am passing time
in the mirror I watch as it all goes by
before my eyes
In my memory there’s photographs
of a young, go...
Layover
January 19, 2019
Existing in the space between two destinations,
like a layover in an airport terminal,
untethered from the surrounding chaos.
Moving parts coalesce in...
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