Her last two brain cells lay in their bunks in the dark awake at 3am. “I’m a horrible person!” moans Two from her twisted blankets in the...

Aren’t you glad we’ve A flourishing God Who loves a good ink dipped pen? Who admires the filigree Of developing leaves And every painted...

You carry a question In the back pocket Of your mind, And if you Sit still long enough It makes you uncomfortable: “Do I matter?” The...

Maybe I don’t see you much anymore. Maybe you said goodbye, Or maybe I did. Maybe we just took alternate routes And never recalibrated...