frequencies.
“… as sun catches horizon in brief embrace,
petrichor wafting from palms onto sand,
your conflicted eyes trained on my face,
refracting light. sensations unplanned: …”
between baking and watching the sun rise, i’ve been reading sonnets lately & wanted to try my hand at one. while the complete version might never leave my drafts, i enjoy this snippet right before the volta, (and i also can’t believe writers can fit ten syllables a line).