a tenderness untamed: your skin becomes the slate upon which we build worlds
Tag: monostich
the brevity of the fading light has changed something in me
fog fills the hollow and the macabre plays tricks on the frail minds of man
press a face of flesh lovingly into the untouched earth and you have made a homunculus
autumn at this rate: pitchforks are mandatory on witch hunts
when the sea beds fall silent even the fishermen wait a moment before speaking
doors closed softly often hide the kindest of souls
memories of distant pastures collected in an old tabacco tin
snagged fishing line: curious the autumn spider strums it gently
dear life: such a bitter lover she is this greying and stubborn haze
