moments pass
without discretion
woolen tangerine yet blares
framed
as though it were alone
as i
when every tear
touched paper
those rising redwoods stand
aloft
stark in contrast
bark to flesh
an old friend’s triumph
over fallen redwood
ever forefront
his eyes still speak
to me
this day
subtle dreams
were left between
to foster love
less nuanced
even i cannot recall
in light
of geometric wrest
frozen
into false creation
stories cast upon
recall
life once ventured
beyond
the vague demise
captured
by synthetic eyes
of ghostly senses
Max, or Not 
Wonderful.
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Oh shucks girl, you’re far too good to me <3
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Psh, there’s no such thing as being too good to you. You deserve every kindness. 💜
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You deserve every bit as much and then some. I’m working on it😊
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I can feel that. 😊 And I’m more grateful and appreciative of it than words can express. 💜
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