See Past Shells

You are not broken. We all have our chips,scabs and scars,stories hidden, no such thing as perfect,itself a myth; you are perfectas is, each soul a treasure, measured not by appearanceor the illusion of wholenessfor we are equally completewhen love washes over us for no shell is enclosed,though we shrink within, open and in rotation,vulnerable … Continue reading See Past Shells

Monday to Monday

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Everything happens for a reason? No, I don’t think so. I hope not. I am not a believer in fate to that extreme. It’s too controlling. If it were truth, I’d personally journey to dethrone those meddling Moirai and take back my life. I’d do it for others too.Now destiny to me is a whole … Continue reading Monday to Monday

When Our Fingers Brush

When our fingers brushbefore the full entwining of hands,in that lightest touch,I feel the warm sand after drifting since birthin the ocean of life,sometimes afloat beneath the moon,mostly pulled by riptide. When my flesh feels yours,every lighthouse at once finds me;the beacons of light bring home the onedestined to love you eternally. Your hand holding … Continue reading When Our Fingers Brush

Puddle Abyss

Storm whisperer usually,with arms outstretched,welcoming the powerand harnessing it within, sometimes the tempestturns on meand brings to the surfacethings long buried  and distorts my abilitywith the stinging rainto see clearlythrough such blinding pain; it is then that I tend tocollapse in the mirage of the puddle,sinking fathoms deepinto the dark aqua-underworld, forgetting how to breathe,forgetting … Continue reading Puddle Abyss

Sunflowers in the Sand

Sunflowers in the sand baffle my preconceived notions, such a traditional earthy flower sprouting alongside the ocean.   It draws me in, such an unexpected sight, yellow-bursting heads, mini-suns against the muted, so bold and bright.   So many thoughts beyond the beauty begin to orbit in my mind.   I am reminded of childhood, … Continue reading Sunflowers in the Sand