liar
sweet like moonseed your words tumble to the forest floor and her the naive child bare footed and doe eyed gently fondly dusts off each...
liar
forced decay
My execution, the holiest waterfall
Fear of the Once Known
Poem on Autotype
My remorse, farewell
reluctance and acceptance
Beg to bury the days in damp sand.
A beach in Bamfield, 11:49 am
Bridging the Gap: Pearson College and Metchosin Community Reconnect on Metchosin Day
It's time we run, darling
Questions I Keep Asking Myself