Mirror Games.

Original poetry and/or photography.

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Is it wrong, after years, to miss you this much?

Your love’s a picture of flame that still burns to the touch.

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New Color

Deep in the ocean,      in a cavern,           in a clamshell, there is a new color on a perfect pearl. It’s the lone example of its kind on this or any other distant world.      A man           in a suit, in a submergible craft      dove down to see the color true, but with his hardest strongest stare his eyes could only process murky blue.

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I don't know where you go when you dream, but I hope it feels like home, and I hope it looks like me.

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