linktr.ee/odysseyhealing
My hands are still dry from the long stretch of parched
the ferocity that has blown through here
the insistence of sun and wind and fire.
With the sound of rain
a taut string inside me slackens
a loosening of the grip of alarm
an exhale.
But the rain
(read the rest on Substack)
My hands are still dry from the long stretch of parched
the ferocity that has blown through here
the insistence of sun and wind and fire.
With the sound of rain
a taut string inside me slackens
a loosening of the grip of alarm
an exhale.
But the rain
(read the rest on Substack)