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a summer haiku 4 him
girls playing on a zip line
the scent of clover
his voice merging with sunlight
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like honey sunlight
The way your voice fills the room like honey sunlight your tongue touching a certain place in your mouth– I lean in. (aching) Words spill recklessly from your beautiful mouth unfiltered and weighted, the pressure of them sticks to me no–not the pressure, the power it has a…
- art | creativity | inspiration | poetry
purple is
Purple can be the color of mourning
And the color of the irises that I once planted in my mother’s garden.
