One fall morning, at half-past ten,
dreaming, transcendental sensations…
this phantasmagoria captures my mind
do not leave me behind
recreate this sensation
please
recreate this sensation

closely holding,
closely held

Fall winds may induce new recollections

I am in dire need of a new sketch book.
I would like it to be spiral bound with a black leather cover. Would anyone like to do me this favour?
That is all.

To the art supplies store it is...

This is NOT my own; found poetry you might say. Found where? Elsewhere.
{She is very good; I think.}

"I found you sleeping on the tip of my tongue
So I took you in, what else could I have done?
I found you staring at the lace of my shirt,
and I thought to myself;
"If only I had been wearing a skirt."
I can still taste you on the tip of my tongue,
while restless souls burry their goals,
I dream of togetherness and sing myself a song."

I am feeling quite small

Everything worth a thought is elsewhere.
All that is left
here
is
you.
You cannot possibly
wish for me
to think
of
you.
So stay.


{Written quite a while ago, before I had come to certain realizations...}

L'étreinte