By day, I drink words of the deadfrom a goblet of tearsand age-old anguish.
On a cool, silent evening,the light falls and the growing darknessveils my soul…
A spoonfulof dreams;
Sometimes I feel smotheredby this time of year,overwhelmed with faded memories…
Cashmere. Burlap.I stare into woven faces of monstersand blind ambition,while…