Notes in the Margin

Space is a strange gift~

The words so carefully wrapped

Can be thrown away.

*

A familiar place

Some dream street littered with words

Waiting to be found~

*

Where we kiss and touch

Ink dries and words turn to dust

  A forgotten smudge~

*

The end of the line

Is where we begin to write

Notes in the margin.

*

Space is a strange gift~

The words so carefully wrapped

Can be thrown away.

clay pot haiku

hard and fired up

fingerprints pressed all over

my little clay pot

lust

lust is a donut

hot, fresh and dipped in sugar

do not lick your lips!