She walks in, her eyes like soft pencil lines.She smiles when she looks at the waitress,ordering a coffee. I sip mine slow, looking out the…
Poet & Storyteller
She walks in, her eyes like soft pencil lines.She smiles when she looks at the waitress,ordering a coffee. I sip mine slow, looking out the…
She reminds me of Pariseverywhere she goes,everything she does. She sits on the couchand crosses her leg. Part of me wishes I knewsomeone who lived…
Her moonthe everlasting creamin my coffee of stars. I stir,hoping she appearsin half-dark twinkles of night. My hands warmin the bistro of anticipation.She leans against…