On new neighbourhood rites.
Nothing like a horse
If there was anything else to drink, we would happily forget how the rain is made and never again believe in the colour blue.
By the lake
In another life, all I would do is find new names for the colour green, and it would be enough.
On the world and now and all the things that have happened and still may.
The end of a world as we know it.
I am still so much even as I am less and less.
There will always be time to dance from now on; it is that kind of season.
Oranges pt. 2
It’s not easy coming home.
Speaking about sunshine and the ocean and not speaking about either.
The goodbyes keep on coming.