One crazy girl, one laptop, a plethora of pens, erasers and the occasional camera.
Saturday, May 18, 2013
Dawn filters through
muslin white drapes, warm enough
to leave robes on chairs.
Your voice rises, rising me
from the floor where I sleep,
where earlier that warm evening
we laid among pillows and rugs
played with your cat,
read books about photography, sang,
and chatted. Laughed until the moon
shrunk and vanished
into a soft oblivion,
and we crashed.