All day long, she soars high,
steering her vibrant tribe.
Blazing and beaming,
she stretches her arms, embracing regards.
In the fullness of time, she drapes
herself in a soft bruise of dusk,
leaving stretches of love stitched in rare, quiet pink.
Whispering last secrets, loosens her embracing grip.
The clan exhales as she drifts past;
unsettled thoughts dissolve into slumber.
Carrying her small ember away,
she soars up again, the next day.
Jan 27
Jan 27, 2026 at 9:43 PM UTC
Dilute me;
add a hint of bitterness,
a bit of preservatives,
a splash of artificial flavor.
Only then might I be enough,
comprehensible,
consumable,
for you to devour whole.
Jan 15
Jan 15, 2026 at 9:58 PM UTC
I hold the door for you.
You walked in with grace.
Leaned on my ache,
And moved past me without a glance.
I hold back by the door for you.
You avowed to retaliate.
Kissed my rented face,
And faded without a wave.
I'm still holding on to you.
You're a blank line.
My hand retained the cold of the grip outlined.
The door creaks now, shredding whatever was twined.
Jan 15
Jan 15, 2026 at 1:56 PM UTC