The heart that loves truly
         has a foretaste of eternity
         beyond the pale of the earthly
         it dwells in untold bliss and beauty

In the woods, I saw him once
Through the trees, the branches crunched

My basket warm, with gifts to spare

He took it all, left standing there.

There was no ax,
No take backs,

There was no peace,
No songs to keep

Oh, his ears,
Oh, his teeth

Stalking me, to my granny

Till he went in too deep,
Lost his feet.

The only other way, gone
is down.

taste as above the mind
interlong, stretch of water sold
absinthe's disdain for salt
familiar running legs brushing cruel

The copper bells glisten
Swaying in the sunshine
I pause as I listen
To the tinkling
Of the wind chimes

In the distance, they ring
A gentle melody -
I hear their songs
The unsaid words they sing

How sweet is their music
Sweet the joy they bring
Such is the wonder -
The magic of little things

even now, i'm almost as high as i want to be.

indulging in the first bite of the apple was always a thing for me.

and i take my time with it.

Fences fail quietly—
in a slow tilt,
colors give way,
surrendering—
a silent retreat
from brown to brittle.

I press a finger,
catch the rough
edge of metal,
its dust scratching my skin—
years thin us,
like coins drowned
in riverbeds.

It goes this way,
I think—
a long fade,
grit slipping
into dark water,
turning to mud,
just enough to remember
we once held on.

And I wonder if we, too,
were made to loosen,
to dissolve—
no shards or splinters,
just a long sigh—
as time corrodes
at our hearts,
turning all we were to rust.