I exist in a place of confusion; perspiration has the scent of chaos. My father visits my dreams, but he doesn’t recognize me. The ebb and flow of warnings erode […]
Another storm is coming. Feeling the barometric pressure. Waiting for the strong winds, to begin parting our ways.
A sense of panic lingers. Words spewed to comfort. It’s not over. Garbled dreams and nightmares so vivid. Time is forced to rewind. We’ve shut our doors again.
A summer of Deja Vu becomes reminiscent of a love story. Cascading sunbeams reflecting our memories. The warning of a storm, the bittersweet smell of rain.