Wrapped in the winged arms of my Papa’s chair.
Solid eggs.
Cooling. The morning gum, and its refracted light,
hold my gaze.
The rush of the morning discarded momentarily.
2015
Musings as we move between our stardust states.
Wrapped in the winged arms of my Papa’s chair.
Solid eggs.
Cooling. The morning gum, and its refracted light,
hold my gaze.
The rush of the morning discarded momentarily.
2015