Taos is curves. Walls that bend into archways.
Roads that curve and roll
around mountains and forests.
Not even the corners of the rooms are square.
Will my life curve here too?
Will I circle around to dicover the truth I was too young,
too blind,
too frightened
to know when
I circled through here the first time?
Life is curves and time bends into memories.
Advertisement
Like this:
3 bloggers like this post.
