At eight o’clockyour whispers are faded periwinkle and wrinkled with shadows of indigo bruised,like a worn pair of jeanshugging your hipsa summer ten years ago. Closer to midnight you labored sighshave darkened to prussian,while […]
“Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.” — Albert Einstein
the woes and dreams of a twenty-something with too many feelings
Now we see through a glass, darkly
A Little Writing Workshop of Horrors.
rejuvenatement - not retirement
words and scribble.
The Quantumverse
Poetry
About fantastical places and other stuff
Sharing my thoughts, poems, travel & art
