Tag: art

a tendril of my shadow cast into the gnashing maw of waves

quietude: is the modus operandi of the coast this summer morning

tiny yellow flowers carried downstream: letters to ghosts

all bridges crossed or burnt must be troll tolled: pay one day we shall

blood becomes the bridge between razor and flesh

strange is the crow who sits in a circle of wild violets

bodies become burdened with silence whenever the evening turns golden