My fantasies now dull,
I read non-fiction for spice-
Life told fantastic.
Painting by By Pieter Fris, 1650 (Sotheby's) [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...