VI.
i have been flying the same path for a long time.
when i look down i see a blanket of white fluff.
in front of me is the universe.
we collide, but i am merely a bump in the road.
it continues to venture.
i keep flying.
B
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fifteen (XV)
Poetryi prick my finger on a rose in my garden. my blood is not red. i take the wind caressing my face as a silent apology. cover art made by doradorapuff on tumblr. [2015] thank you to everyone who shared with me these short poems as they were published...
