blood becomes the bridge between razor and flesh
Tag: freedom
strange is the crow who sits in a circle of wild violets
bodies become burdened with silence whenever the evening turns golden
a wildflower on the table is as good as inviting the meadow into your home
nothing more than your kind attention for the gentlest of magic
the rain at last: a different kind of song
death’s old scythe catches the morning light
through the evening mist slower than your slowest thought
old garden path smells sweeter when walked at twilight
tide call: grey waters rise as limbs raise sails
elancharan gunasekaran 