hurricane draft

February 6, 2016 Posted by the writer

hurricane draft

when it started…
hearing his voice
(like sunlight on your face)
became… natural.
and his words
were… (wind in your hair)
Art.
to make you. pace.
blown away –
(mon trésor, mon amour)
cattails.
floating on the breeze.

About the writer

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gretchen's brain is preoccupied with words.

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    FollowMeToNYC is a creative processing ground which expresses individual ideas that often change with the tides. Naturally, these ideas do not reflect those of any of my employers, or anyone else you might see me wandering down the street with one day.
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