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Not that it mattered. All fell into a hush as we found ourselves wondering how time moved fast as that storm. Hours came and went, making way for a sheer velvet moon to grace our eyes. Then arrived a powder sugar dragon. 6

16 93
2020-08-08

Then a hail storm greeted us midway. I dared a hand out my window & met constant thorns, from which Tristan crowned me Champion of Wonder. The snow-like sand would be my reward after crystal deluge. 3

6 56
2020-08-05

Bristles on my bones were wiped away by the encompassing wind, its poetry howling lavender in my ears. We drank in razor greens and blues, tasted bright belief in each breath. What a day to be with friends again. 1

7 61
2020-08-03

It was a feral cat protecting her kittens, fluffy forever tails swaying amid wind's whispers. I kept my distance, noting the 7 obelisk-like poles surrounding the lamp-less road. Bread crumbs. 2

6 44
2020-07-07

My hand clasped with yours & our sights on trees silhouetted by sun's glow, I remembered strawberries' sweet tang on homemade yogurt & the friend who fit almost snug in my palms—the day I no longer felt small. 6

9 39
2020-06-06

The cold would be sloughed off our shoulders where tomorrow's morning spills; and gravity would take us to a home away from home where the only things falling from the skies are rain, snow, and petals softer than silk. 5

16 85
2020-06-05

Your wristwatch ticked as a deluge of hydrangeas bloomed in our hearts—a quintessential restoration after years of walking through rusted gardens settled beneath strangers' heavy shoes. 2

8 60
2020-06-02

When it was time for capricious skies to welcome our constellations, we'd stand at the littoral to watch the sea become Sun's womb again, our eyes ready to be ensnared by the stars' content twinkling on small ripples. 1

9 64
2020-06-01

Oh, never mind the cold. It's temporary, isn't it? I like to focus on the sunrise instead—how its light is a canopy amid spirals bright as sports drinks. Hope breaking grey skies to add warmth to haplessness. The things we think when waiting for beginnings. 2

5 29
2020-04-07

Nightfall, face to the peeking moon, I thought of sneaking a kiss before my Mom opened the door—but nothing happened. I went to bed, woke up alone, and looked at our last photo on my vanity mirror as Mom placed a small white bow on my hair. 7

2 10
2020-03-08

Dew peppered our lashes on that clouded spring morning. I felt your sleeping breaths on my cheek, slow and steady as the breeze swinging between leaves. Our loose gripped hands were sweaty but I didn't mind anymore. It was calming—waking to simple beauties. 1

6 37
2020-03-05