Anna Lovering

'Lenses' Black and white

'Strands to curve'

The silhouettes of the day bend around city fences as paper cut outs when the sun turns shy to only hide away. It is 'the greatest show we can see', when the stars, burning bright... fade.... fade into thin highlights that dance amidst You and me. As if trapped in glass bottles for all to see. At night where I sat to wish upon You as that one shooting star. Your mind, so far left at sea with thoughts of a wife who'd be kind when life had that rewind switch to put you out as a woman of the late night. I wished, wished........ that you weren't afraid emotionally. A dark that you didn't want to face, so I should stay your light. An equal weight as an apology, apology..... of a hand, heart so heavy and still, should I sit and stay only to stare out into the midnight blue and feel you speak with me as I hear you repeat aloud..... All the while, far as you are, 'You mean everything to me,' an echo..... as the heat of a star leaves a trace of You drawn from a wish of How I wished upon You. While a lake complains of the shallow empty thoughts which get thrown into the many sides that form the lake. Although troubles filled with licenses, are myriad manilla papers in as not so much drowning in the deep but curling as lilypads upon a tabletop of life amidst a fisherman who as a crane peels back the cellophaned sky to allow change of a patterned cut out flight through a watercolored night.

Ballad of Love and Hate - Avett Bros. (by tobster80)

'cut wax'

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3pqloZnAQsA

There was a tree with your name carved on it. We met there once or twice, while You held me silently, as the air breathed slowly..... Too many pauses like rain. I waited....but ended up empty handed... You have no feelings left to hurt, with an open mind, and eyes around an open land. A heart, Yours, reflected against a sky that speaks as You should leave with a stamped good-bye. It was the letter that You left as a message, not left to question. The stains held against your face, along side those reflected train track plates.... as a whistle, those Ravens who faced there dance against a wheat plain. Where Moths, speckled the tops at night in life as a carousel of graphite.

'Advertising'

'Correspondence'

'Architecture'

'storm Clouds'