The Geometry of a Softened Heart
I held the paper like it was an anchor, but I wasn&
Deep Sea
The Silent Lotus in a Concrete City
I stood before the ancient stones, but they held no comfort like
The Weight of Unspoken Things
He always chooses the window seat, doesn't he?
Just like
The Weight of Unspoken Things
The city sounds were muffled, as if buried under the snow falling
The Weight of Unspoken Things
He says he likes my hair this color – a bruised, stormy blue.
The Weight of Unspoken Things
The chipped porcelain of the teacup warmed my hands, a small comfort
The Weight of Unspoken Things
The light catches the dust motes dancing in the air, each one
