kayakndan's profile

Dreams are the best I can conjure now. The faded Tobasco tie stifles any recollections. Any hint of a concise instant of my past now as unattainable in my head as they are to grasp in my calloused hands. Friends long since folded into the fray and dead. The web, though world wide, never sticky enough to bind us shoulder to shoulder. Somewhere their rapturous spirits are mere mortar for brick walls that divide us from the loving bedrock and the insanity that launched us occasionally from mort...

As a summer buff, I weep annually when green falters fruits wither leaves blowing asunder from forces far past my mere mortal understanding unseen- yet felt. Sloughing off vibrancy in lieu of a stark nudity stoic trunks face anew a whimsical firing squad of ice. Yet as I sit here looking into the shadow of an increasingly bare elm bare feet cold coughing, nose runny epiphany overwoughts my chilly premonitions. Now I can see more of the sky.  

The two tiny sons I love have been raised on hardwood floors. No fluffy plush and padded carpet cushions their falls as they learn to walk the tidy asphalt streets and unkempt gravel roads certain to lie ahead. Their feet will be theirs for the rest of their lives. Shoes they will outgrow and toss away either by decline of fashionable interest or sheer time of usefulness. Their tough feet will always take them the rest of their way. One bare foot in front of the other if need be. There a...

As a summer buff, I weep annually when green falters fruits wither leaves blowing asunder from forces far past my mere mortal understanding unseen- yet felt. Sloughing off vibrancy in lieu of a stark nudity stoic trunks face anew a whimsical firing squad of ice. Yet as I sit here looking into the shadow of an increasingly bare elm bare feet cold coughing, nose runny epiphany overwoughts my chilly premonitions. Now I can see more of the sky. And that sun on its holiday tilt, will shine f...

A dervish in life, now so much more so in death tossing aside notions of physics and poise silent sexy shadow spinning asunder her daily essence a loco trip without tangibility . Now she puts on a show unencumbered by pangs of self awareness or tethers to mortal earth. In the glow of black lights a sultry sparkle spinning. Billions of dusty specks colliding undeniably revealing her glowing form. At times she beckons to me as I lay beaming on our bed. That glittering finger of sultry moxie, be...