now when we talk we know we are pickling…
Bramble in the woodclaims from the jazzy humusblackberry vigor.
A haiku
of tranquillitypitiless mirror with squareof conversation
An American Haiku Poem
just because I wrote it doesn't mean it’s a story the empty page had to be…
“its the taste of ink”I didn’t ask her about the other tattooa story which I wanted to stay with her.