Owe yourself a little loving.
There's this little cosmic love that people lose themselves in that makes me
want to dance to their music too.
So we're just two tiny minds with nothing to give
but not wanting to be alone.
Why don't we?
I don't mind.
I would lovingly take myself to places where things happen
and feel the aloneness and confusion and take it apart down to an atomic form and
pick at it and find the sound that exists within it.
Then perhaps I will take your sounds around and invite it to my garden.
The feelings are blooming and it's a little scary.
The camellias are mine, those lilacs were my friends'.
There are some from the hidden hills. This willow is from my childhood.
These are my mom's aloes, roses, a huge christmas-like tree and bushes of leaves.
Things are alive.
I don't mean the flowers or the plants.
Your mind. The sounds you listen to.
The photographs at the back of your drawer.
Your struggles. Your sleepless nights
Things like that.
