Once,
I read a book
that flowed like river,
words that poured like rain,
ink that flooded
these two-dimensional pages.

I read and read until
I fell into its ocean,
splashed, surrounded,
swallowed, sunken.

And there
I stayed floating
in this story, watch the sky dance,
the stars make their rounds
all around and there I was.
Slowly, softly, smoothly,
waves that lull the soul
into slumber.

In my dream,
I saw birds flying,
soaring away,
and there was land. ...

A million tiny stings stabbed at my flushed face simultaneously as I left the warm glow of the house. I watch my breath swirl with the frigid air before dissipating. Wiggling my fingers and toes, I crinkle my nose at the sight that lay before me. A beautiful serene scene of gleaming icicles that dangled from the rooftops reflecting the full moon’s soft glow, of ice that melted and smoothed over the rough grooves of tree trunks, of soft sprinkles...

    That night, she sold her heart off to that charming boy and forever lost it. Under the full moon, she wept for the love she never had, for the love that never was, for the love that will never be. Her tears ran rivers down her face until she had no more and could only lay there tangled in the flimsy gossamer shawl. Silently shaking. Exhausted. She had escaped from her tower only to be trapped by the wall....