Pulsing like seconds,
waiting
to reflect
on when love
there is to share
I have wasted
weighted under
pressure of
volume in veins
voice and warmth
that we lose in death
if we don’t
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My mind makes divine speeches at odds hours.
I hear myself when silence
hits. mini revelations tossed out by splint
ered memory of
morning
you can't slur a blossom
when the sun is down
unless she’s penless
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Sandie Angel a.k.a. Sandie May Angel :o)
when the sun is down
unless she’s penless <----- so often at night I go in search of a pen to penn to. Great metaphors here..