. . . Who knows where we will be, when next summer knocks on our doors, how much of our past then, that is now only the present, we will have let go of. but when you grabbed my hand, I knew I never wanted to let go . . .
. . . Grouped on your plate like a chorus, eat too much and it might be dangerous Possibly Treacherous, spewed across the table like a canvas. For it has no forgiveness, for the atrocious, For those who cannot perceive . . .
. . . Summer – people ditch their sweatpants . . . Fall, as the colored leaves fall . . . Winter, the tip of my fingers so cold, cracked lips, . . . Spring, daisies, roses, tulips, are in season, blooming like there’s no tomorrow . . .
. . .I miss frosty mornings, and blankets and sweaters, the warmth of my car heater. hug me. I miss the rain, because it was something to talk about . . . Niceties are all you can give, I’ll take them every time . . . I love the sun . . .