Indigo's eyes, they shine, but earlier, I was told that mine were dark — asked, even, did you sleep well last night darlin?
Tag: poet
A Bumbling Fool and a Man with a Wife
Sitting alone in this brown wooden chair with the beige upholstery, the one that connie purchased for me.
so far from enlightenment, so close to bliss
Feeling frustrated, over stimulated, like too many thoughts and obsessions and fantasies and perceptions of myself and what I want to be and what people think of me knocking around in my hollow head like balls in one of those bingo contraptions that spin around while cute old folks dream of the possibility of winning … Continue reading so far from enlightenment, so close to bliss
Forming
Society views our bodies as objects of which to cover, expose, apply, inject. Art views our bodies subjectively, allowing for all curves and lines that no one really sees to be celebrated in all their beauty.
when I was writing in a cafe in Prague
Is it possible, to be all that I wish to be, to live out the stories I tell in mind