Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all. – Emily Dickinson
by Cheryl Kerredited by Deana Tavares I remember Kissing, your bald headYou were smaller thenStill, the same fuzzYou were crying Would not be soothedI had a million things to do. Every reasonTo lay you down Let you cry yourself to sleepBut, oh, that bald headSmelling like powder Innocence Simplicity I chose to hold you High Upon my chestYour… Read more
Finding and even MAKING joy inside the deep crevices of suffering is what gives life when it feels as if every other element is trying so hard to take it away. It was late and everyone was tired… which made it the perfect moment for our foolery. Carefully, with one of us watching the door,… Read more
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