Shaking or holding,
our hands touching won't ever
be just hands touching.
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Saturday, July 2, 2011
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It's haiku time again in creative writing class
Coffee is bitter fuel that brings a sweetness, lifting my spirits. Empty hanging file folders, holding only the hope of less clut...
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You’re a valiant pine growing from a cleft in a rock. You are an old piano by the beach, sending your notes flying, singing with the gulls a...
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Serial monogamy sounds like a crime. A felony, at least. Big shout out to all you lurkers.
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