love
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“Life, it’s falling, stumbling, leaving marks…“ Life is a series of snippets—like 30-second commercials selling us narratives about ourselves, to ourselves, and to others. Saturday, Rainless. The day hung heavy with the promise of rain, yielding only sweat. I had been to Los Angeles, left a message, texted early, and answered your call with silence
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“Like dewdrops that sparkle in summer’s warm rays On gossamer wings of a midsummer’s day,I tickled sweet Life, and her laughter took flight,Like wind-scattered petals that dance and sway,My heart bloomed crimson in morning’s soft light. But fortune’s wheel turned, and she drifted away,Her eyes became storms on a wind-ravaged sea.Through winter I wandered, lost
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The pull… to push, With stenciled lettered tiles beneath these worn fingertips, Leads me back to you. As I recall, the night before, When you, my queen, Held court in a palace not our own, Yet made me feel at home. A banquet feast served, My eyes locked on, The beauty, Chalice cup,
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Not every line’s a poem, Not every post spills secrets. Value’s in the try, not the hit. No fixed price, just the roll of the dice. Poems, secrets—same deal, The cost? Your courage to share. Economics stripped bare, Trading on old, worn coin. I crave your words, your presence, Now distant, like touching through
BB Grey--musings 