I’ve been holding on tightly for dear
holding on tightly for fear of what’s next,
holding on tight as I can,
I g-Read More »
Please exist forever, Darling-
I know you will.
…Do it near.
Read More »
My crossroads were a metaphor,
because where was I when I realized the road before me forked?
In the reclining chair,
painting the epistemic situation in the distinctive shades
of sand, sun, and tumbleweeds- nothing but dust and wind on either
side as far as eye could see. And how was I to choose between,
and win or lose or even move?
But that’s the thing about crossroads. You never paint their metaphor
if you find sitting still an option.
It would be a third path, and you would plow on. So,
pressure. Tick, tock.
But my crossroads were a metaphor! I finally realized,Read More »