And the aura of you remains, remains, remains...
They [daisies] are my favorite flower. There is something innocent and vulnerable about them as if they thanked you for admiring them.
To be without God is to be a snake / who wants to swallow an elephant.
I am a collection of dismantled almosts.
The grass as bristly and stout as chives and me wondering when the ground will break and me wondering how anything fragile survives
The windows, the starving windows that drive the trees like nails into my heart.