Be Still.
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Shit, I think.
I think I’ll keep myself preoccupied. I think I’ll go out to some bar, or some club, or some place where people tick tick tock around like gears that keep this machine of a city whirring. They sometimes bump into one another, spilling drinks, flashing smiles, swapping hopes for a brief moment – before descending some…
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Thunderstorms
Here we are. Holding, folding, unfolding. Spinning, whirring, slipping. Your skin melts into mine, sweaty precipitation as some storm brews around us. Flash. Boom. boom. Is that a raindrop? We are together in this.
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Cobblestone Dances
Cold and hot, instance and essence, We walked those cobbled streets, exhaling in short puffs to try and hold some of their warmth. ‘Did you see?’ I would say. ‘Do you hear?’ she would say. We discovered which arm positions best suited our frames, Which allowed for the closest proximity and walking fluidity, Like a…