the darkness; strewn along her spine, sowed in her throat; a note of survival, a miserere of grace

"…to be loved and found magical, like a secret…" Anne Sexton 📷'Hill of Daffodils' Anna Marcell

https://t.co/d0DF7iJpCw

palms with the fragrance of orchids entering the temple gate Basho

. “The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold.” ― Hamlet, A1, S4 . #ShakespeareSunday

The sun sinks slowly and my heart follows it toward you.

https://t.co/MafPj366UH

Poet of waking light, your words touch my face, tracing small eternities. Do you know the soft wonder you #achieve with your pen of murmured stars? I swirl, I float, I fall to earth, cradled by a wistful sea, drawn toward the moon’s embrace, never touching. #vss365

silence.

letters to the sky spilling secrets to stars of the longing between us, love

anhedonia settles as a grey film over her heart and she moves through silence hollowly hallowed as if even sorrow has abandoned her

Soft are the tender clouds of your lips, gentle is the intimate sky of your kiss.

https://t.co/uYOcQ4Sgvg

Today's sunrise...

trying to visit me in my dreams but honey i’m a nightmare

Healing.

meaningless words drip from my bloodied fingers missed but forgotten though a wanting still lingers . to say nothing is a matter of the emptiness inside this parchment a lost memory where hope resides . a dream i cannot #measure as this voice a voided treasure #vss365

blood stained and butterfly kissed

she folds into herself, a waning moon cradled in the hollow beneath her ribs ~ a silent tide no one hears rising

like a bruise you keep tracing just to remember the impact

anhedonia settles as a grey film over her heart and she moves through silence hollowly hallowed as if even sorrow has abandoned her