“What about tomorrow?” She asked, Let it be beautiful before it is unmasked.


“What about tomorrow?” She asked, Let it be beautiful before it is unmasked.


I had become an angel, a bird, a sky guide, a Hot Air Balloon!

I once was a pilot, but I couldn’t fly a plane
I once was a meteorologist, but I couldn’t predict the rain
I once was a politician, but I couldn’t tell the lies
I once was a funeral director, but I couldn’t say good byes.

We are our ands, withs, togethers.

She was born of a big bang, trials and meteors blazed as time enveloped her. The anatomy of her galaxies flexed and defined, found forms and transformed. Shooting stars and gaping black holes ate matter, a retrovirus desirous.