unwritten autobiographies. smashed ceramics.journal filled with half-whit drawn-up musings.the sun beats down upon me,thirst and dust,burns and blisters,unlubricated machine.disassembled electronics. glass shards.dancing…

mildly bittersweet remembrances,strewn about a clouded tabletop,in the frame with broken shards,i see myself reflectedthrough your loving eyes.as soon as these winter winds have died,i expect to find you in the summer su…