Every morning I go to the broken seams of earth with seeds for wild, for flowers.
Be so much as to be so much more.
In the envelope was a star. . .to steer by.
“Throw your mother off the boat a kiss.”
Forget the night I cried about the roses drunk on bourbon.
The questions that lead to questions are the wings that lead to flight.
I ordered espresso. I thought I was ordering coffee “faster”.
In order to write, one needs a sea of one’s own.
My bird speaks well of you!
“Just do it.”
Okay, for you, but have you got the instructions?