poetry

Paris, France

I am lying on a firm mattress staring up at the teal blue Paris sky that someone in New York sees with different eyes. Unlike the Big Apple, not a sound of birds disrupting my gaze. But, in the distant, I hear the zip of an engine. But only one. I hear the beeps and… Continue reading Paris, France

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poetry

My Virgo Moon

my moon is a virgin: innocent, yet wise about the inner workings of mind and body because twins balance the masculine side as a mirror the sun shines reflecting virility that is partnered with teaching and learning inside the house of inner peace it is a microscope seeing the chaotic needing order with label maker,… Continue reading My Virgo Moon