caleb has a stick
I am the karakia of your ancestors
I am pohutukawa red
I am the conversation of chickens
I am fleeting
I am handsome sandwiches
I am the clock that doesn’t keep time
I am a smooth round stone
I am life reflected
I am shame
I am justice
I am the grave that no-one visits
I am Rangitoto, seen from above
I am random Christmas decorations
I am the words you will not speak
I am water, falling
I am the sound of your body, sleeping next to mine
I am doors left open, to the cool of the night
I am a new black hole
4 thoughts on “*”
i am a new black hole, too. and you blow my mind. gorgeous, honey, really really gorgeous.
I am the thrice-used mugs on the windowsill.
and i am loving your writing…keep sharing my friend. xo
sweet caleb. had a schnauzer growing up – such wonderful dogs!
“I am doors left open, to the cool of the night” – yes! this line evokes such a beautiful image. if i could draw or paint it, i would.
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