Imagine you and I are dead. No- listen- as ghosts We can no longer hurt each other's Hearts. See? So there we are In grey purgatory. Opposite sides of a Table. Sitting. Waiting. Even here
I wake in the darkness of early morning Brush away the clinging gossamer of sleep In the quiet which feels as though no-one Has ever touched it, stirred its gentle air.
I’m five feet and two inches tall It’s really not that much at all In fact, I think I’m rather small- At least it’s not so far to fall. Some say cute, others ‘petite,’
He Begs Forgiveness Someone I tore from my life like an insect from my skin left behind a sting relying on my enduring nature to bury his bullet-words in the sand