Xanadu
 

Your life starts off so tall, hanging high off the branches, your eyes watch over the busy people rushing through their lives, surrounded...

I can be your faucet, I’ll provide every last drop for you. Come back as you need, and I will be here. So casually used, yet so essential...

She separates the denim, whites, blues, purples, Delicates, leathers, cotton. Careful not to mix them. Machine never stops spinning Until...

A dress, as beautiful as a California poppy. Her smile, radiating under the sunset, sometimes she wears those beautiful hair clips that...

For you, I’d be the graphite in your pencil. Black smudged on your palm, Back to when you engraved Your first A, B’s and C’s with me....

If I were your pillow within its pillowcase. Unchanging unlike the casing surrounding it. Cushioning your head, keeping you comfortable....

At times I am the threading of two things into one. A screw beneath the floorboard unseen by the beauty above the wood grain. The...

Forgotten and for granted, dormant on your bed, when night falls, your head will cast my shape. Feathering the sheet, carved around your...

Let me be the sweet creamer in your coffee. Always pouring me in— without me, you don’t drink coffee. I would like to be that essential....

Why can’t I be the soft sand, comforting and cleansing you, keeping the beach renewed and repaired—grainy and constantly changing. The...