moon vibes.

rarely flustered, sometimes sore, accordion at the grocery store....

in the ditches, washing dishes.

shorts a bit too long.
my ego, fighting to live.
close my eyes and smile....

true love's kiss.

in and around the witching hour, some 13 years ago, our heroes maniacally groped at time and luck and chance, kissing underneath the moon beneath shadowy palms in turnabout alleyways, beginning a new chapter that promised always to remember, and never to close....

when we die, the stories we have written may haunt our remains. yet someday also might they disappear....

let the last slivers of the sunlight burn away your misgivings....

yummers.

oh, taqueria.
these lovely aromatics
ensnare my hunger....

haiku.

balance a rhythm.
let it find its own center.
things will hold from there....