ajulea

Wait below the windy willow that ripples the river with dreams which, like skipping stones sink below with flailing arms and silent screams. I’m on my way down phantom lanes leaving mud tracks of sunset rust. Every roaring turn looks the sa…

The fireworks were spring and autumn merging and dancing with shooting stars on a pale, shivering night. Jet black waters ran, trying to carry the reflection with them on their journey to the south sea. I lost you in the air that night a…

We danced like                            r                           a                           i                    …

The moonlight seeped in through the window, shining bright white, like winter’s first snow flooding the room with tentative grace. Do you remember the paper crane tied with a red thread to the wind chime? It danced in sync with the whistling wi…

Ma, it rained so much today that there were tiny puddles in the street that reminded me of paper boats and you. I was five and my boat sank so you took my hands in your palms and made another one. It was very cloudy and cold but your hands…

The balloons were red- red balloons against an orange sunset rising like angels floating to high skies celebrated us more honestly than last night’s masquerade of a party had. Between pen and ink, plain paper and screens, I’ve lived…

To the stranger at the station who waited below the bronze bell, still, amidst the smell of coffee and the flow of human sea waves breaking against old, red pillars which held up a mirage of hope, this is my thank you note to you. I was a…

Wispy thoughts run in circles, like kids playing tag along dusty roads winding uphill, singing some old silly song. They stray off the trodden path like children lured by the shine of silver candy wrappers and a stranger’s golden smile. Tag…

Rose tellin waves in crystal caves of crescent bays on summer days behind the sheen of laptop screens mutely mocked plans of summer sand and foamy swirls that paused the world. The rain soaked breeze convinces me the room’s pale walls…

Worldly words rolled off your tongue like dewdrops from purple petals when the sunrise breeze, the wild child, plays tag with yawning pollen grains. The trembling hands of the clock froze. The cuckoo stopped calling mid song. The descendin…