I need to write to keep this room from being silent. I'll fill the air with thoughts of you, Paint your face on all my walls, The depths of your eyes a rock-riddled pool I'll
I float in I float in on a raft of escapism The wind on my back Sun sightedly, for I had had a great escape this afternoon (a trip to the movies with my mother) From the postoffice I came,
Silky in the sun, them dutch houses, creaking staircases, creased faces lined with laughter and its aftermath, tears. I'd never walked before. Rushed, direction driven
Now this may all sound very silly, but I promise that if you were to walk down the road, stretch out your hand and let your palm trail behind you pressed against the hedge you usually ignore, you’d