Darkness lifts the wake of dreams.
The broken narratives untangle in small-window sunlight.
The boat left in the snow next winter harbors blackbirds you can count on two cold hands.
Let’s say the scars on your face shall heal.
The animal similarly afraid.
Forgive to surpass stupor.
It was a silly doodle.
It was a painting of calm.
The navigation from one world to another curtails the new picture of heartbreak on the dining room wall.
Sea water blurs the last blue-green map to you.
Another good thing is.