I feel the wind tousle my hair, weaving
with minor tugs and eddys
in the particulars of autumn dirunals
It is a proof of life
.
Proved again in the emptiness,
that devoid flat where she could never be,
the space vacant of her green eyes,
or long gilded strands invoking images
of ancient soil, new blood spilled,
the floods and fears and creases in time
In reminiscences of her dwell affirmation,
this too is a proof of life
.
Somewhere in the mist we were broken
She, I to seperate, fading in an instant
that left my fingertips pulsing in the clammy chill,
balanced to the will of limbo, a proof of life
“Being a couple yet free is our next challenge on the evolutionary ladder. This book successfully helps us unravel the myths that block that achievement. It does it with warmth, with readability, and with balance. It recreates everyday problems and
I met Jerome on a busy city street in Baltimore, Maryland, when he was forty-five years old. On that particular day, I was out and about, enjoying a much-needed day off from work.
I wanted to purchase a sukiyaki sub. I parked my car in an area of
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~Chrissie