My eyes trail from his hand to the tattoo written in small script across his forearm. Hopeless
HopelessMy eyes are open and I’m not seeing a thing because I am so lost inside.
How They Met, and Other StoriesI closed my eyes during a flute solo, wishing I could wrap the silvery sound around me like armor.
IncarnateThe dream too thinks twice, gets filtered to go soft to be seated on children's eyes.
Jeevanko Chheubaata