Xanadu
 

A star on my sleeve. We walk through time. So hated yet we stay strong — why? Why do groups of people get targeted? It goes all the way...

The ribbons and string. Worn out and broken to threads. So perfectly fit. Sometimes I wonder if anyone appreciates Pointe Shoes. Every...

Between book pages, petals flatten, imprinting nature’s silent prose. Nature is known for its constant change. Flowers start as seeds....

Five, seven, five counts Of poem I can’t quite grasp. Beauty in restraint Sometimes without rhyme, but supposedly with reason. Serving as...

Marvelous array Of colors and shapes flourish. One eye is intrigued. People often announce that the best things come in threes. In some...

Keeping a fast pace Watching the leaves trickle down. The mile is nature. Running is a sanctuary. An escape from reality. Any issue, any...

Your threads my memoir, providing comfort and warmth through all the seasons. The Sweatshirt. A bulky, thick, comforting piece of...

My most favorite color, You asked me, then dyed your hair That gorgeous purple. It’s been years and I remember how many. Four. Four years...

Fibers like sponge. Memories imprint softly. Washed, they remain. I grab you from the rack, ask my dad for his opinion. I throw you on,...

For almost everything in my life, I have used the kitchen door. From exits to entrances, greetings to farewells, slammings to sneakings,...