Trading blank spaces for fistfuls of words.
Just one look in your eyes...
Dear, I'm coming back to life.
Refreshing, to be breathing once again.


Fireflies and JarsFor every day within the year I set a jar in a field, near And every night I caught a light Fireflies as they burnt bright One for every jar I set I placed in scattered patterns - Where no point would intersect Parallels that never metFireflies and Jars
The world weighed - Down with frozen white and buried Girth of December settled, heavy I placed them there amid the snow Almost lost To the cold I waited until nightfall, falling Waited for the clouds to clear...
Twelve came on cue No sound, no falter The twitching stars Were all a flu


5:41 AM5:41 AM - Lazy static eyes. Mouth of a coming sunrise. Radial dynamics. Formatting the blurred lines.5:41 AM
6:53 AM - Dead noise. Gnawing on the hard wire. Corrosive implant. Jaw locked by nine.
10:15 AM - Staring at the ambiance. Neglecting voids. Pillars of light shine down. Melt the snowcaps.
11:07 AM - Bruising mirrors. Autophagy of membranous cells. The twitching wire. Last sparks.
11:59 AM - Erratic pulse. Staring blank at empty lines. End transmission. End transmission. &n


We Were Leaves, TodayWhen we fall We fall She said Like the leaves We spiral down Caught in drafts Of hidden words Spoken whispers On the breath of winds We never know Our coming end.We Were Leaves, Today
When we collide We crash She said Like the leaves We hit the ground Caught by the Earth Hands of root, grass and/or dirt: Gentle fingers That know our worth It holds us close It holds us dear As if our heart's In need of repair.
When we fall We fall She said Like the leaves We drift around Bu


A Lapse in the DayIs there anything Behind the sun Eyes can't seeA Lapse in the Day
The words: Forever blinding...
Drifting... Away...
What's that you've said now? There's been a lapse in the day...
Something was missing I'm sure that I strayed A willful departure From the path weaving straight To where I thought I had wanted To go the other day...
Yet I find myself brushing Past tangled shrubs Standing stones And thorns Too inane to hold names...
So what is this feeling This undefined pang, weaving slow through-
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