time – pretty words for wicked girls

August

August fades fastFast as she cameTender moments bathed in amber glowand still I standHolding steadyBasking in her warm gloryOne more dayor twoor fiveLucky there are AugustsAfter all

I am constantly running from endingsthe gripping fear that things will changethe fear that they won’t.Sometimes the moment feels so comfortableI just want to sit and bathe in the solaceHow do I slow down timeher liquid curves sometimes like honey,other times like waterand I am but awash in her currentgrasping at sticks stuck in theContinue reading “Running”

The Weekend

Ah the weekendthis human conception of timethis monetization of freedomWe live all week for some reposeonly to spend half of it dreading the nextfor whatWhat life is this?