I love it when the clouds are painted cotton candy pink . . .
Call it foolish, call it futile, / say flamboyant if you dare. / As for me, I’ll call it radiance,
Where can we get a baby? / my son asks, his blue eyes piercing / in the morning's heel.
dogs, especially puppies, the friend who texted, “everything ok?” when you didn’t show up...
inhale, rise. exhale fold. / stretch float flow / repeat
She looks in the mirror violet crescents shadow the delicate space below her tired eyes ring fingers tap cold cream trace new wrinkles etched in the corners and here’s an annoying pimple in her reflection, // her eyes move to her softened belly, once ballooned to carry a baby small breasts, once swelled to feed … Continue reading Beautiful