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writing with a twig

writing with a twig


• Click to edit Master text st – Second level – Third level dear i’d like to know

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• Fourth level – Fifth level

what if lamps rained


A cloud of smoke you think “where from?� In reality a cloud of dust Its not a cloud stop calling it that A puff of dust into the air, sunshine makes it shimmer The pink feather duster bringing somethings to life


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an envelope for you a set of directions will you meet me there at dusk whisper yes and I will hear i have super senses for you my dear


air freshener refreshing drink ing^ lemonade with ice ^clinking on the cup ^that is safe ^in your arms ^coming out of the water ^dripping down your face ^covered in rain ^soaked jeans


once when I was little and looked over at the power plant and thought “they’re like lighthouses for people like me, Who have never been to the beach” and then I thought “that is very poetic, I should start calling them ‘pollution lighthouses’” I never did start calling them that, but once in a while when I see the smoke stacks I remember this memory


writing with a twig  

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