Woven into the Fabric
Woven into the fabric, I can’t fall out. Coral softnesses called petals, bring their scent divine called rose – It...
Preferring What’s Here
The right chair. Cushioned. Not too straight. Not too low to the table. Ideally in a corner, facing outwards. Not...
The Birth Canal
Humans have started the blind journey. No more floating. Now the canal squeezes tight around us. No way back to...
Sunrise Means We’ve Turned
Sunrise means we’ve turned, I and the ball I spin with. So the sun blooms, and we once more have...
