Catching My Breath

I know, I know, my writing has been spotty (at best) for the last couple months. Ironically, this wordless patch … More

You begin this way:

This is your hand, these are my hands, this is the world,
which is round but not flat and has more colors
than we can see.

Paint the scene now, before ship takes a dive.

He takes his finger and puts it to my chest.

Though today
We are
Dazing
While mindlessly
Grazing

I’m in here.
Scared to death
When perfection eludes.

He doesn’t come / when you call / usually.

I still don’t know where to start.

The clouds always part

When will I see the sea
for what it is
and what it will always be?

wisps of potential
precipitation
occlude
the sun’s rays,
goosebumping
my flesh
which was recently warm.

Little things piled up. Thing which, under normal circumstances, would have rolled off my back, but they ALL. HAPPENED. AT. ONCE.

Safe
in our certain
Somethingness…

Every day is a new page in a book of endless pages.

I see you… Rising above the cloudswhich obscurewhere your building began. You continue to riseIn spite of the clouds, And … More

I put my finger on the “thing” / But then “thing” moved – or was it me?

This is how it will always be.

More sleep means haiku

The bad’s still there – I’ll let the best abound.

	Ben Kohns on Catching My Breath
	M. Oniker on Catching My Breath
	Birthday buddy on You begin this way:
	Ben Kohns on what will the waves do with th…
	Ben Kohns on what will the waves do with th…