I'm lost in my umbrella
But my jacket's nearly soaked...
--
i keep sweating, the air is drenched with...
Her eyes are
stained glass windows...
October presses me against his chest -
I feel all the sadness he summons...
Wondering if my words are ever coming back...
relishing the day when I can put more than a...
I always dreamed that
in the mountains, I would...
between the amber, cream, flax and
goldenrod, the skies fold in sorrow...
I saw your
shadow...
If only I could write a sonnet, sigh
perhaps, my thoughts could get well organized...
… regarded nostalgia as ambrosia,
and i remember this clearly...
July has arrived with heated
winds and cheery...
You learnt to turn your fingertips
into curves of light...