You splashed summer into my palms

I received it like a poor man would alms

Thank you, God.

dickinson exclusively

exclusively dickinson's

From deserts of
mouth and mind
I drink your words
they slide down
and soak my gut
and saturate
my blood lines

it's my cells that sip
with delight
your words
I exhale gratitude
you are
always
more than
enough

she gone

Quite remarkable

How days are made:

our minutes

make her hours

oh, how something so

quick

leaves such a

lasting impression

like paragraph indentations

her words are forever

she hits me hard

in the heart muscle

soft not gentle

every time

fresh as the first

her seconds

is all i want