Sitting on the dock, legs dangling into the murky abyss is Katrina. Her eyes match the color of the lipstick she wore on our first date. My calloused feet tip toe along the wooden frame to get closer to her and I think for just a moment about the danger of a splinter embedding itself in the pad of my foot. There is a quiet, rough sound that is coming from her. A harbinger of sorrow escapes her thr...

Sweetness and softness were old friends seldom heard from

Unless,

Your ears are pressed on an old oak door that trails memories in between the grooves

And whispers of words that’s not meant for me or you

Unless,

Your eyes are searching the space between the oak and the floor

To see the room that is hidden mostly except for two measly inches

There you will gaze upon lost Time lazily lying on lonely...