HOW TO FORGET write me a lullaby in clean smooth strokes on sheets stained with remnants of the fire with which we spoke wrap me in their candor in the depth of their escape tuck me in with letters that dance to hips that sway ©Lizann ‘2012
THE INVENTOR There is no color to perfection because it doesn’t exist. I dare you to show me flawless with a beating heart. Dip your brush in the hue that doesn’t make you question the piece that you have just created and you shall be crowned the king of inventors. For it doesn’t exist. ©Lizann ‘2012
The different colors of love the bitten part that stings with poison they pervade the sense that sees the sense that tastes. The different colors of love a translucent veil of wings they crumble and regenerate when a voice calls your name. The different colors of love a healing of burning skin a bedtime serum of Truth that leads you to where it begins. ©Lizann...
MOONSTRUCK I drove home and saw it resting on a bed of clouds. I stopped to see. I stopped to breathe. It looked like it had been expertly placed by an award winning cinematographer for those whose minds have slipped into a pool of weariness. Its disposition was surely meant to tug upon both the heart that feels and the heart that simply does not. ©Lizann ‘2012