Skip links


dusk is a pink
glow through mist
(soft as the belly-skin
of a newborn)

pencil-thin traces
of mountain ranges
flirt here with a quiet
blue tapestry

a saphire crown
of stars approaching
mingle with the pink
horizon with

something eons
in the making
— delicate
as lace

i call out my
name yearning
for an echo: silence
takes us all

beyond what beauty
has initiated…

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Join Julien's newsletter.Click here!