I honestly have no words left to describe, and yet describe I must. It is central core; it is both early understanding and conflict, I am almost certain it is essential, for every breath taken away after mouthing his name says the same, he consists of grey gardens… Read more“In retrospect”
If you recall, we have met before; somewhere between brittle earth etched with longing and pretty words serving as disguise the minute the sky darkens, everything that takes place feels as though it’s unexpected, that is, until earthiness emanates and enthralls the mind, allow me to introduce myself, I have… Read more“Petrichor”
To the right was a thicket laden with berries; mostly red but some of them dark, gesturing to the ones who dared to go close, and so, it tells us that Spring would arrive soon to stir the land– violin vignettes as grass grows fond of lover’s limbs… Read more“The Temptation”
Celling of grey speaks in soft, dulcet tones come listen; it recounts because it must, just like rosy lips that murmur their moans, address sludge green and souvenirs of lust. I am bewildered, for rain stains the soul reminds me of death and honey and such, this feeling… Read more“Sonnet XXXI”
The verbs are all in the present; so, I do not sleep in early morning sun, I breathe the deep turquoise, bounce between shallow and shy without a care that black box of wine is empty inside– it’s easier to say you’re all right. … Read more“Early one morning”
Whipped cream can do so much more than complete; from chocolate mousse to romantic notions in books and films, one can’t help but be drawn to its recipe, come and observe, sometimes, reading is nothing more, than a gentle reminder to let the heart open itself up … Read more“The Quality of Whipped Cream”
