we become who we truly are
with the people who inspires us
to feel so much very
alive

the shudder of blue
skylight run crisp
an hour anew

empty hallways glisten
feet stumbling shyly
our smiles listen

two white breaths
silence that misses
starry night sky

a warm December breath
heavy grey sky nuzzled
with the lavender sunset

the best part of my day*
is picking up a stone
with the dirt still clinging
and the moss still glistening
like how the very grey clouds
nestles in and breathes without sound
this stone does something like that
and everyday it's a different stone
but still the dirt clings on
but of a varying kind
and the moss still glistens
which I hope is still mine  
I feel happy with the slight clap
of the stones in my pocket
yet the weight is becoming heavy
and I hope to bring them to the lake
before my love for them
*is outlived

do you know that feeling?
that feeling of an encompassed hush
fell over your mouth and eyes
and the thick fragrance
muffling the sounds
which whistles like
a deep blue sky?
like sitting absolutely still
with headphones in
yet no music is played
so that the world suddenly stopped
resonating clearly like
how it's supposed to be?
sometimes I fee like that,
most too often really,
like how I can't figure out
the distinction between
the shadows of two chapels,
or the steam coming off of
a very hot cup of tea,
sometimes I just feel definite,
and sometimes I simply feel
inconclusive