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
Back to wood decks, quarter-size spiders, webs, moss and creatures stirring in the hollow nights Back to no side-walks and skirting into th...
No comments:
Post a Comment