Vengeance
makes a map
old
wives tails and medicine
man
show now how X
crosses
paths never worn away.
“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Woken from a deep slumber, as if my name was spoken aloud. Only the spotlight of a honeyed full moon sings across my shadowed walls. Heart...
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