In the moment when the light rises, beauty is opening, ready for revealing. Delicate, not frail, she holds the nighttime kiss of dew and
and she still sits and wonders what happened to the days of hope and wonders at the rusty bolts and holes… abandoned. how had
It was a truce between us …an understanding. one more step and he’d fly away and I’d be left with just the image of
Just a drop that fell and mingled with assistance made a roaring sea and threatened all I am and was ever meant to be.
It was simple in my hand I held tightly to…it scarred my hand. letting go it rolled away… in opposing light I peered and
I found the light above and thought it unsustainable. reflected cheery optimism and life in represented green and thought it false and mean. But rooted