Come Autumn, without turning I kiss the night, the maladroit and send him away

And now you inquire about the nature of my heart now, after extracting its nectar and bestowing emptiness once more along rugged edges and oval pores, the liquid amber which you drink of is nothing short of essence, urging Autumn awake from deepest slumber this maladroit handling of the affair has left me in pieces, … Continue reading Come Autumn, without turning I kiss the night, the maladroit and send him away