Friday, November 4


everything you touch will
live forever
a house on a hill
or something equally familiar
a facade with hidden
but deep, blemishes
a brush of your hand
fixes the cracks
in the dusty windows
in the intricate tiles
the vines leeching the walls
they hide the delicate patterns
they cling together
innumerable
twisting and weaving
an everlasting embrace
it never breaks