Six lifetimes ago An automatic coffee maker Chef and chief breadwinner Recanted a story Woven from the tattered threads Of another The red sweater in the wind Contrasting against the sun Winds gust
six seasons
grey skies turning orange, whirling helicopter blades; the cycle repeats.
on another level
What is this notion, This gaping maw, gazing longingly back at me? Annoyed at the very least of the intrusion, Enraged at the remainder. Someplace beyond this. . .
Pulling another all-nighter
Noticing the lightness Signaling the cup is empty Having finished my coffee I am consistently disappointed it doesn't refill itself
emollient
virtue and vices, cat purring at the window; the sound of your voice.
