There are countless stories
living, breathing in my bones
begging to be freed,
piercing the unknown.
Each day conjures a tale
that plays out within my mind,
a world that seems so real to me,
who knows what I may find.
My subconscious divided
between this world and my own;
A thousand lives have settled
and made myself their home.

our lips will never meet
nor our fingers intertwine
and so bless my dreams
for indulging what's not mine

Who guides you each day?
Would you to angels pray?
Our guides on the sides,
All ethereals, they hide,
An open mind we must keep,
Blessings from above, love so deep.

degree of overcast

so the day begins
and so will reman,
the week predicted
the same, only one
variant, degree of cloudy,
mostly, partly or just...

it saddens me deeply for
I contemplate all the lives
with this whether forecast,
or rather,
the absence of
whether,
the only variant,
the degree of overcast

9:34 AM
Fri Jul 17
Year of the Covid