I have known for a while
but feared looking
at the solid words
etched already,
I feel with my fingers,
it has already been years
since we lived
looking
together.
Image by Philip Hermogenes Calderon (1881) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Before I arose the tangerine sunrise squeezed its citrus air through my bedroom window dripping fresh pulpy nectar of a new day onto the co...
No comments:
Post a Comment