the whites of your eyesare telling storiesfull of lies and the smokeyou have cometo crave as muchas canvas lipspainted crimson has swirled likepacific/atlantic currentssleeping fitfully side by side filling up ...
you,with yourindian heartand wildflowers, your warpaint sky— crimson collectionsof cochineal seashellsground to dust and carriedon the wandering breathof the mockingbird’s song. you told me that all that rises mustone day converge. me,with ...
I write for fun and fun for write.
|Country||United States of America|
|Joined||5 years, 2 months ago|
|Last active||5 years, 1 month ago|