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.. Let’s build ourselves a cobbled cottage by the appletini sea, a place for you and me to spill ourselves in ink and rain and salt. We’ll build it tall and wide of stones unthrown and river rock and fallen … Continue reading
.. We crave the cobbling of days, the ways that things unthrown might add up to some pathway, some intricate up. Some cup more than half full. Runneth over. We live in glass houses, under glass ceilings, grass roofs … Continue reading
Give us cookies, shiny things. That we might leave a trail, might find our way back home. Give us stones unstacked and thrown only into sea, river rock turning water to power. Give us hours and stories. Smiles. A way … Continue reading
.. She sleeps , and her spun-gold tresses spindle down these cobbled castle walls. The feeling of gossamer against her skin, and a gentle mourning for fragile footwear. A half -bitten apple. A fading rose. A watchtower, the call … Continue reading
.. Make a ceiling of this sky, indigo in all its glory. Embrace the bound -aries of this room, this infinite space, this place we’ve been given to inhale and exhale and grow to know our -selves, each other. Gather … Continue reading
This poem is the place I live. It’s a shanty by the sea, with a view of forever. It’s a well -weathered cottage dotting a crimson sky. It’s a penthouse suite, a one -room apartment, a periwinkle chalk cardboard box … Continue reading