Reclining in Thought

A cave in my head
Growing larger by the minute
I am in this cave
Everyone I know is somewhere else.
The cave is heavy.
Pushing on my eyes and lids
Out and Down

Plucked from a Crowd

A lock.
About the lock, a circle
About the circle, a box
About the box, a man – yet not a man
Male, yet feminine
Almost like an angel, I expect him to grow wings
A form like water droplets that get too close
Clear eyes, but blurry shape
Blue in sense, but not in color
Altogether undefined
The man defined by the box
The box defined by the circle
The circle defined by the lock
The lock alone itself defined.
A key that was, but is no more

Sitting Alone

A tree with withered roots, which blossoms but bears no leaves
The ground beneath it, scorched, barren, cracked
Yet water fills the cracks, fresh and clear.