A field of choices

Rotten cherries scatter us

Piercing white noise breathing

Bow to the mirror

Heart stops, feet sinking

I hope you love loneliness.

Cloud kisses turn into lemons

Miles to go

Sheets that resume the velvet

Digging.

Never going.

Wheels that turn gold into rust

Frazzled metal pieces

Doors less traveled

Turn off the questions

Faucets drip

drip

drip too loud.

Faces shape the shadows

Spotted red with too large of gaps

Twisted minds collapsing into empty cores

Stains on skin

No evidence by surprise

Glass half empty by sunrise

Bones get chilly too.

Fluttering of feathers cause distractions

Winter is long gone,

and what was once fresh is now a prune.