a native of Santa Fe before the stars
lost in my own head most days
aging waywardly
I have lived on both coasts and can never go home
because the stars lease my playgrounds
to feed their pretty sheep 8 followers / 468 words
Nothing is empty Nothing is lost Nothing is ugly Nothing is in vain Nothing is alien Nothing beautiful fades Nothing sweet loses it's character Nothing deep loses it's resonance,
the night is dark a moth flickers through the light and is gone I stand at the doorway, my house empty at my back and look to the road up which you will come to say good-bye