words. music. randomness. life.
Read me with a genuine desire to see me.
My heart has become gaunt of fate, my traipsing twisted.
Sushi me again..
Show me the stone that sings your melody…
Of simplicity, the pigeon loves a windowed pie.
Originally posted on WINDSTREWN: I’m neither young nor old, but I feel like both. We always seem at war with…
It was a rickety rack and a rook at risk, all chess to be checkmated, I swear.
No hands have grip enough to seize a hope,
no whip sharp enough to crack out a wish’s wheeze
Originally posted on WINDSTREWN: In myriad ways, now and since, I’m less a formidable force than then, When I was…
Hope bore you home and when you came, mystery fell and broke open wide.
The children…called him “Tristeza del Padre.”
Save Destiny, but She was with you already…
The cloth of music is sewn as the spiny drum spins its wonder-thread.
My legend was all doodles upon the door.
Swing your smile on my heart like children play
But I’ve become a worn welcome to chance, having dreamt near all I’ve done.
I have exactly three cardboard boxes that smell of musty rental storage.
It took time, but I dug up that heart-choking chain.
I don’t dare care. Against what they say, I know.
To whim-water the drought-stricken seed of our dim, near-forgotten and purest place…