Monday, February 23, 2026

mmmmcmlxxxvii

intimacy reimagined

as a huge field of tulips at dusk locking lips with the swaying sky.  you’re

not here.  but i am.  feeling all that i can feel.  being all i can

be, with a shiver rising from my toes all the way up to the sky.  as if i

am one of the gigantic percussive instruments somehow hidden

in the peripheries for an orchestral performance.  played by a

ghost.

a ghost takes a photograph of a liver-colored heart