Full of thorny fervor swollen green with life, he took root in her overgrown garden’s heart. He scaled and weaved and interlocked, like a thick vine too stubborn to wilt or break or wither. Not even when the winter fought her way into his cells. He never waited for rain. He waited for her. She would be the one toContinue reading “Tend”
I just wish the words our mouths make were like the ones we write. Then our art could reside in each other-but, instead, they are silently read on this website.