the smell before it rains and the taste of that first sip of tea in -20 degrees

the slow untangling of your thoughts with every beat of the drum, the way the wind blows right through you just enough to move you forward and never enough to blow you down

the sound of typing fingers when you know you're onto something good, the feeling of your own, and finally not his, skin

the seasons are changing and baby so are you / six senses are helping you develop into someone new

Who am I
to deserve such sights,
to witness this splendor?

Thank you for trusting me
with this color, this light.

Thank you for reminding me
what lives behind the dark.

Whoever, wherever,
whatever you are.

We dance in the ashes like
Literary scavengers.
In the ruins and after rages
We draw the shreds of words and pages
Around our naked bodies like Blankets,
A quilt of the quintessential struggle
Which all people suffer

Perhaps I mightve been a lobster
My backwards spine and plate,
Perhaps as human I am fitter
Perhaps maybe,  a good deal bitter
The stars dance looping circles
Casting their lives brightly,  tightly around
And I am stardust,  true,  and you
As well were once a star.
We could've been lobsters,  but
We lived,  and came so far
And so's our fate