pieces of the sun.

comets.

It keeps eternal whisperings around Desolate shores, and with its mighty swell Gluts twice ten thousand caverns, till the spell Of Hecate leaves them their old shadowy sound. Often 'tis in such gentle temper found, That scarcely will the very smallest shell Be moved for days from where it sometime fell, When last the winds of heaven were unbound. O ye! who have your eyeballs vexed and tired, Feast them upon the wideness of the Sea; O ye! whose ears are dinn'd with uproar rude, Or fed too much with cloying melody, -- Sit ye near some old cavern's mouth, and brood Until ye start, as if the sea-nymphs quired!

the owner of a bookshop in Salem, Ma. 

i feel so empty in the afternoon.

love and hope and other four letter words. 

but i didn't.

and the hands of a clock.

onto our skin.

to leave too.

find me in the light.

i promise.

as we hide behind scarves.

as we take flight.

from my lips.