I will write and delete this first post a few hundred times because I can be obsessed with perfection. I also exaggerate. I'm imperfect. I'm wearing colors that don't match and sandals that are dangerous to walk in. This is my disclaimer. What you read here comes from a moment's thought and a lifetime of inexperience.
I'm happy to be part of your life, but don't mention my name. I like corners and basements. I prefer to sit alone with the ocean than mingle at the lake. I'm friendly, but sometimes appear aloof when I am feeling shy. I observe before I act and consider anxiety one of my closest friends.
I'm not really sure what will show up in the space here, but I'm sure it will include poetry talk, my cup of life, the ability to move without being noticed, and a poem or two. Quietly, I step back into the room, find the desk in the corner where I live in my paper worlds.
