Somewhere in yellow-pale

across the noise of my lips;
there is a first sunrise
in yellow-pale, computer kisses.

Tears drip from her eyesight;

velvet sunset reflections
beauty and wonder;
ripples wander her intoxicated;

She believes herself darkness.

Sinking in memory,
underneath, she is the cloudy blue breath
of Breathless words;
a heaviness against her breastplate.

Dry moisture moves from you.

Dear girl;
I am your welcome!
Voice of a new dawn!

Write your drawings!

Yourself drenching and
cascading backlit letters.

third-eye movement
transport no limits!

Translucently, skin,
still looking; late for me.
thank you.

For I am you
and we are still waiting for me.

Go, light up this morning;
sky-crooked smile, don’t be shy;

Yellow-pale becomes you.

paint much love, always,
Connie Karleta Sales
a.k.a. This Crooked Little Flower

First time a computer speaks for me. CKS
First time a computer speaks for me. CKS

  • “We are what we imagine. Our very existence consists in our imagination of ourselves. Our best destiny is to imagine, at least, completely, who and what, and that we are. The greatest tragedy that can befall us is to go unimagined.” N. Scott Momaday
  • “Intelligence is the ability to adapt to change.” Stephen Hawking

*thank you my loved ones for your love, hugs, and support*

Connie Karleta Sales

artist, poet, educator, public speaker and thriver! Smiles and unpaved roads are the way I roll :D