( for Mormor ) I met a wilting flower at autumn’s end. The chill in the air made us wrap our arms around each other not for warmth or comfort, but as a barrier against the arriving winter. I passed by her resting spot today. There was that small hump, the soft curve of a stem a summer well lived a wildflower gone to bed. She laid beneath the sky, petals spread like memories, leaves folded in the shape of a prayer. I imagine she bloomed first in the spring brighter, taller, fe

Im searching for green A dress to be precise Like one that would inspire a lover To hold his breath And bite his lips As I captivate him...