in the back of my mind there’s a door big hardwood door painted white, cracks in its paint a testament of time that’s passing by. the door left ajar, invites to a storage-like room, where one can stop by and think of all the things that lay covered in dust, present, and past, in my mind’s labyrinth of tall, standing shelves. on one shelf, there’s a home: cozy and warm, parental love, filled with laughter, music, and games, blankets and hugs, kisses goodnight, my duvet tight;

Take me to church through February’s piercing breeze under the lunar light trembling body trembling heart. Sea moss stones buried in raven sea under the decision’s pressure longed for reunion its sweet warmth.