#dirtyblossom

the air is thick and hard. perhaps, the memory will become bone now.

if you listen close enough, life is loving right back on you.

All those long pauses over the phone were full with dense feelings I had for you. And it's hard to leave a poet at a loss for words.

Too hard of a fire and too soft a storm to be loved from my fault lines to my whole.

Of course, dirty blossoms wilt from time to time but that doesn't stop our petals from dancing.