A Thought. Poem by Alison Rosalie

Like every moment is not just a blur but a continuous series of blurs all swirling together with each other moment and the details never live within our memories and suddenly the stretched out words and pretty sentence structures don’t matter, they’re all just one bright part of the living, twisting galaxy, the ever-continuous universe growing across an endless stretch of vast space. And down below our drama’s brewing like a crock pot and the only way to soothe the simmering is to inhale the vapors it creates and hold them in until our heads are swimming; such is the expanding universe, the eternal ocean that is you, your expanse of brown eyes and all of the recollections like seashells tucked in the furls of your brain that I have yet to listen to (to hear the far, far away ocean in this tiny glasslike seashell cupped in the small of my palm) .