darling, time is a construct.
I just purchased green gloves
and an hour later
they are already ripping.
say hello to the story.
find what we find.
it's cold in these hours.
no snow, not yet.
blue silk dress,
instead of purple silk dress.
be a part of my broken heart.
what's it like getting a haircut in Kentucky?
my brown eyes wait around.
I'm writing this poem from inside a Christmas gift.
with lyrics that conjure long drives, and tall pines.
you're smiling from my sleep.
we whisper dark farms.
like similar sirens of grace hill.
we evoke folk songs.
and we try to sing along.