#13 healing poetry; I bought Jasmine when I heard that you had died

If I arise tomorrow, And forget that your soul Left this place, a long time ago, Would the wind stop beating at windows? They are streaked with rain and pollen clusters, fidgeting bugs and dusty frames, I don’t think I have a picture of us. If I arose tomorrow, If the sunlight lifted in particles,Continue reading “#13 healing poetry; I bought Jasmine when I heard that you had died”