Thoughts, Stories, Poems
The secret must be written on the bones why else would they keep them here…
Mitchel David Ring
streets passing by a world dreamt and dreaming creation at the touch of thought…
It’s like the waves came and washed everything away…
The air smells of rain and the sea…
woven thought descends over dark water flowing…
Wake with the sun, and die with it…
Barefoot in the night, in a field washed by wind and starlight…
I was there when the world broke…
the dream is thinning…
I left a part of myself in those woods by the sea…
There wasn’t any meaning in me until you wrote my story
I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything…
Give in, she whispered. It’s inevitable…
breathe in cold vapors, ash, heat in our lungs…
Storm isn’t enough to describe it, what we resisted as long as we could…
The Light is On 