Saturday in July

Scream a silence crunchedbeneath cold finger tips shatteringthe crystal beauty beneath thepresence of possessioncrushing the fragile wingscellophane promises, silhouettepressed to the windowpanepinned to the fantasy, curlinglegs into bridged arches abovethe sateen waves, uneasyport-side dock invading the shore... It still tastes like lemongrass It happened again. I sat among the group where moments before I had... Continue Reading →

Create a website or blog at WordPress.com

Up ↑