Precious. And Personal. That thought was more than what a thought has ever been or could ever be. It is more delicate than the first snowfla...

A knock on the door  A wooden door with a crack A visible crack that was mended Mostly mended three years back  With a color that did not ma...

Up the stream, summer in a hat A straw hat made in spring  The sun had a deuce with winter The blossoms had whistled then With whispered hus...

A tie left loose The fabric still perfect In a hurried hurricane of footsteps  Through carpet-proofed hallways And fluroscent-smelling light...

Was it worthwhile  Jumping across the rife-struck riverstones, Barely craving to be foot-dimensioned Among street talk of the clouded crysta...

A stroll in sleep in another world That was not, but still was mine  A cookie of chance, in purple daze  Stories of rhythm in ecstatic glaze...

Mealprep for the week to be In neatly labelled boxes and jars Homemade sauces and ketchups Curated for personal taste and tantrums Couple tu...

I smell whimsies on crysanthemums, The essence of unbothered beings On the faint veins of white waxy petals, Of a flower who never shares it...

Can Time quicken its steps, please?  Let this day be over before long?  I would sleep it off But Sleep is not too kind either.  I would clos...