Tell me how you saw me die…

I felt your light, I knew your sound.

Of joy and woe, of hope and fear, now in dreams their face appears. The boat that sailed along my…

Butterflies don’t have lips. They kiss with their long dark eyelashes.

Thoughts disjointed, scattered, few. Like leaves in wind, untethered flew.

Old man Cecil, the cat that never died; he grew a little bit older, but never left my side. His yellow fur turned…