Musings on Life, Love, and Linguine-Poetry & Writing
In dew kissed morning hours tiny cottoned seed takes flight lands among Spring’s wildflowers seeking sun’s resplendent light.
Be still my thudding heart for there is magic above lurking in his veiled eyes seeking the meaning of love.
This body in deep protest engraved with pain remembrances of love that fills the air in her dark room with no walls to confine her agony.
We are a beautiful hot mess entwined in a tangle of limbs wild spirits screaming yes, yes giving in to the other’s whims.
She said she was with the band and I said, Oh, really? Let me stand and give you a hand because I don’t think we’ve met you see my name is K.K. and I’m the lead singer.
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