Words on a PageThese are merely words on a page, they hold no luster when contrasted with your words, my brush wilts when remembering your art, my blissful memories of you drain of color when I next see you.Words on a Page
These are merely words, my body has never felt more a temple, than the day you touched it with your eyes and felt it with your hands. Oh and when we kiss, I have no remembrance of the time or place that holds us because I sail far beyond it.
These are merely words, How easy it is to say that you love me? But you show me that you do with your every action. Like a tree g
Sleeping HandsTo me, summer tastes likeSleeping Hands
ripe nectarines, hot dust, and the wind, slapping my face like angry children
as I ride my bike through empty streets.
The sun whispers across my face. My pores open wide- sometimes wide enough even to engulf the music coursing through my veins.
In my hand, I hold a paintbrush tipped with yellow paint. Yellow like the taste of sunshine and lemons. I paint freedom in my palms and down my face, and run across the yard, letting grass peek between bare toes.
When I was a child, I had super powers. I coul
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Go Vegan!
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The old Lakota was wise. He knew that lack of respect for growing, living things soon led to lack of respect for humans too. ~Chief Luther Standing Bear
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