The Waves Cannot Cry
Fond memories of Sarasota– The menu my mother twisted into a boat, oranges like suns Ripe off of heart-shaped leaves and the cold Shrill...
"You will find poetry nowhere unless you bring some of it with you"
Fond memories of Sarasota– The menu my mother twisted into a boat, oranges like suns Ripe off of heart-shaped leaves and the cold Shrill...
It is Thursday and I am tired of walking this rose garden, Pricking my cheekbones with a new shade of green each day. I have three dreams...
I wanna turn the whole thing upside down– move out where it’s blue, find new stories to tell. This morning I mixed the dough until it...