the girl with the muted laughter peeked into tomorrow’s sky and it cracked open with whispers by the noon clock that never ticks once again. her footsteps here shuffle not they glide, words woven into patterns on the cobblestones.
once there was a night basket edging the moon dragging her white face across the alley dreams harbor secrets, books with no titles stashed under bed frames begin half-forgotten and self stilled.
I searched for you in the middle of the road – road spiraled inward roundabout without end – the silver sand traced like veins over an unwrinkled palm. perhaps it’s the town oldest maps forget to include, or hide carefully beneath their cover tales.
invisible ink soaks through the pages an echoing footfall sounding soft like whispers folded upon whispers. unravel now, cast these greetings into never found acronyms arabesques unwitting beneath every eyelid.
through glowing valleys always in reflections