Thursday, July 23, 2015. I sit on a hollow tree. Frost outlines the autumn leaves. Eyes watch me from across the field. My heart beats slow to keep me warm. Sparrows above beck at loose acorns. My hands begin to grow cold. Wolves lose patients becoming bold. Crunching snow beneath their feet. They cry beneath my hollow tree. I fall off the tree. Landing on tired hands and knees. I can hear crunching of the autumn leaves. The wolves lick their claws.

As a young girl I remembered how good my mother always smelled. My mother loved perfume and was always buying different fragrances. So, I also became intrigued with perfume and the decorative bottle it was contained in. Once the perfume bottles were empty, I never wanted to discard them, especially since they were so beautiful and eye-catching. Thank you for embracing my passion, Please Enjoy. Splender of a Meandering Meadows Breeze.

Tuesday, January 19, 2016. Romantically we get high, we drift apart, we intertwine pupils dilate. Take a breath the syringe holds our fate, galaxies far away all in one breath, intoxicate. Runs through our veins, we know our keep sake. Romantically we get high, numb from the past, numb from our future. Intertwined in the moment, intertwined in our joy, romantically we get high. Path ways leading up our arms up into the stars, we drift away hand and hand.