The whisper of the woods under a slivered moon, casts
shadows that dance like forgotten
ancient spirits in your peripheral.
Embers flicker, tracing paths across
the surreal tapestry of night; you can almost see
the tales they weave, if only the breeze
indyendigo splotches against your heart! Intertwined
vines holding the glow, binding visions
that fade when thought touching their delicate edges
A soft sigh echoes amongst the stars, where recollections
of lost words murmur beneath the cosmos, casting powders
of curious light onto dreams that never