I have learned to interpret silence. My mind splutters, on the verge of an idea, and once again disappears into the abyss. An ocean cannot freeze. Sometimes I wish it would.
Enthralled by mysteries, the intoxicating paradox of my mind brings extreme hilarity.
Do I strive to become another Daphne, or let this perplexity lead?
I live in stacks of books, with no more room on the painted bookshelf. White polished furniture built my habitat. My poems are full of obscure imagery. I seem to be a nomad with a single destination.
Iceland engulfs my eyes. Mountain arch brows trace my unspoken thoughts. My wind-nipped face slowly softens as the day disappears.
The eerie irony of my unfinished masterpieces goes unspoken. Déjà vu is some form of manifestation for me. Blindly hinting, as I watch in amusement over coffee and scribbled shopping lists. Every night, I fall asleep to the rattle of the subway, and the skeletal murmur of the city
and I rue the day when impulse will leave me just as my childish nature did years ago.
Enthralled by mysteries, the intoxicating paradox of my mind brings extreme hilarity.
Do I strive to become another Daphne, or let this perplexity lead?
I live in stacks of books, with no more room on the painted bookshelf. White polished furniture built my habitat. My poems are full of obscure imagery. I seem to be a nomad with a single destination.
Iceland engulfs my eyes. Mountain arch brows trace my unspoken thoughts. My wind-nipped face slowly softens as the day disappears.
The eerie irony of my unfinished masterpieces goes unspoken. Déjà vu is some form of manifestation for me. Blindly hinting, as I watch in amusement over coffee and scribbled shopping lists. Every night, I fall asleep to the rattle of the subway, and the skeletal murmur of the city
and I rue the day when impulse will leave me just as my childish nature did years ago.
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