Radio Stations
I can feel your dreams and breath so heavy
like a child on a teeter-totter.
Trying to balance but the sway from floor to sky keeps beckoning.
Skin humming from the day,
sunshine still glowing in the warmth of your long, raven hair.
Muscles give way to the weight of the room,
A room filled with unease, unrest…
A love abounding with innocence,
wistfulness and all-encompassing.
Enough to blanket the starry ceiling
flickering around me like a shaken snow globe.
A familiar and frequent reverie.
You’re my favorite radio station.
Purpose and Prose 