a cave formsin the forest.sometimes, in her modest moodsshe calls it a backyardbut miles offlora isn't a yard. she takes a backpack andlaces up hiking shoes.if she walks too fastthey clip at her anklebone.sometimes, the bruiseslast for days. if the weather permitsshe reaches the cave,half-formed though it is.when she first came hereit didn't existand she …
when in paris
when in paris, i wandered aimlessly down a random street.
write one craft one 