Ever since I can remember, I have been immersed in stories – the stories we tell others, we tell ourselves.

In one palm, you preserve the peacefulness, the untouched beauty of nature, the forceful rush of waterfalls over cliffs, and in the other, the symphony, the busyness and buoyancy, the gush of people perpetually streaming across sidewalks, clamoring onto subway cars, turning through glass and brass revolving doors — always a dream to pursue, forward motion — a path to chart, a future, a promise, a forever endeavor.

poetry
contradictions:
seamless and bursting at the seams;
broken, spilling, like pomegranate seeds,
and wholeness, a cell, a room that feeds its occupants,
serves their needs

There is something beautiful about being in love — it is not limited to a person.

There is something I love, have loved for as long as I can remember.

I seek it out everywhere I go, listen for it, talk about it.

Think about it, dream about it.