I scribble dreams on sheets; fold them, carefully, around me. It isn’t that they’re fragile. I just want to wear them all, smudge them and wake covered in their ink.
I scribble dreams on sheets; fold them, carefully, around me. It isn’t that they’re fragile. I just want to wear them all, smudge them and wake covered in their ink.
oh my, shadows .. thank you!
amazing. i think you’re my new favorite poet.
ohhh bless you for saying that … words that never quite got to being a poem because they just said it as is … if that makes it a poem now then i’m happy!
Thank you for your support, scribe, and a Merry Christmas to you!
Hmmmm…. Absolutely lovely. But isn’t this a poem? 🙂 Merry Christmas, Shell, hope you have a good one!