Where It Begins?
I thought of war and peace not the one of Tolstoy but self-limiting beliefs shying away from light, when already a black dot swimming in a white sea. To what le...
Tag: poem
A Feigned Pose
In abundance, it grows Deep wisdom ancient Alongside stinging nettle Gracefully, it stands I, too feign a pose Itching injury persistent. All I should do is bre...
Small Pleasures
A pinch nestles in the chamber air between leaves A light tamp another pinch thumb seals aroma A little murmur fingers fumble the match strikes Anticipation― th...