Jul 2013
The bowl might as well have been packed
with my hypocampus, every lighter spark
brought only memories of you.
I blew smoke signals to the wind,
begging the universe to mend
our broken fate line.
with my hypocampus, every lighter spark
brought only memories of you.
I blew smoke signals to the wind,
begging the universe to mend
our broken fate line.
I might add more to this someday, but for now it is simple and short.
