I planted a seed,
I’m watching it grow —

Praying for both rain and sun.

What did I plant?
You reap what you sow.

The waiting is half of the fun.

i couldn’t sway my head around the fact
that my grandparents stayed together
for 54 years

it made me wonder
just how many times
they had to forgive each other
to last that long

I need your warm fog-breath
on my skin
akin to the way
trees need morning dew to kiss them
in all the right places.

a lone vagabond
adventuring through battlefield
on a crimson-lit night
                                     -Asher Graves

The petals cling—
not out of need,
but by nature.
Crushed silk
beneath my boots,
they rise with each step,
trailing inside
like secrets.
I didn’t mean
to bring the outside in,
but they hitchhike
on rubber treads,
on the hush of my leaving.
Now they scatter
across tile and rug,
bright bits of ruin
that refuse to stay buried.
They mark where I’ve been—
not loudly,
just enough.
A quiet bloom
in the hallway,
a whisper of red
by the door.
Nothing dies,
it just follows.

Your eyes were deep oceans.
Salted with pain.
Drained from our veins.
I have a fear of drowning in you.
Silent confessions were like opioids.
The feelings that consume my heart
are now bone deep.
My cells know.
Why my blood runs slow.
When you kiss my pale
pouty lips.  
Further I slip into
the waves of you.