I lay my tired bones down at the narrow gate to let them be conquered by this cavalcade of undeserved grace. Here's the white flag, here's the pen; here's my empty, ink-stained hands and all the places my mind has been. All over again. No more solo daydreams down tenuous, rickety streets; just lover and beloved in the chasm where two thirsts meet. What a sweet ache is this growing pain, what an earth-shattering noun that forms the sound of your name, what a glorious sight it
I was a little bruised and a little broken when you leaned in and whispered the greatest words ever spoken. Then morning flooded into foggy spaces and illuminated all the faces I'd ever seen but never known. Of one thing I'm sure: this way leads Home.
A great acrylic sea stretches across the wall—Cobalt blue. It almost looks real if you squint your eyes 'til they’re nearly shut and conjure up the sound of briny waves slapping little sailboats. It’s the same color as the ball that goes back and forth—Cobalt blue. Play catch. Stop. Would you like a cup of water? Play catch. Stop. Would you like a cup of water? Play catch. Stop. Would you like a cup of water? Play catch. Stop.Would you like a cup of water? Through the thick h