Thoughts left impressions
on skin and hair like dust
in the air from a fallen
building. A tension in the
air with no words said.
Writer in San Francisco, CA

In May, the fog slips
Into the city nestling
Against glass and steel
I am perched at the bar and
Swim in music and murmurs
Thoughts left impressions
on skin and hair like dust
in the air from a fallen
building. A tension in the
air with no words said.