still writing the date

the ambiance assembled

eyes, babies, wafts of fragrant lures…

What observations do you have?

Melancholy meets me

are we actually seeking certainty?

She uses my pencils to play with words

you—me—she—he—them

drives one ahead

She is our teacher—

—whispers of the heart

study winter with our hearts

let me see you

Armor robs

I wish to go back—

into evergreens

hairy builders of beauty

Some flirt.

What do you do?

…where crafted creations of curiosity wonder and awe…