Sun is where the light goes.

Where do you go

When your eyes close

And the light slips

From the contours of your face

Where is it, that these

Butterfly wings take you

Whisking away thoughts

Like some mad cook

Their something inside

Would you be offended?

If all that you see out of my mouth

Are moths?

Commonplace

Is where my soul is

The most beautiful thing there is

Is what I see, when I open my eyes

Only in the morning

Always in the morning.