A chipped mug on small table's edge - too close, might fall - a remnant from times lit brighter, lighter than now, the coffee cold; heart the same. Were it to fall, shards wouldn't be as sharp as the broken... Continue Reading →
Sheets tangled, intertwined with feet, skin thus clothed and unclothed by fabric and the cool air of the morning. Room an awakening to the night just passed, only remnant the glass his lips had touched.
Frail leaf, even its shadow trapped, imprisoned in the tangled web, aided by bodiless breeze - useless. The sun rises further; leaf quivers on into dust. The lady smiles.