(All writing published here is owned by me unless cited otherwise.)
Moments make people.
These moments of people walk around-
Lonely and ghostly and waiting to be tied down.
It’s not love if it forgets to hold you,
And it’s not hope if it doesn’t move you.
You can be one moment of a person forever,
But I would call you stuck.
There are scars on my knees
Like skipping stones and strawberry lemonade.