I unclench my fistsand let the leaves fallas they ought to — I cannot…
The silence of night stumblesand your words are like ripples in the ocean,they are…
It was a day to unravel the rhetoric and stumble out to pavethe streets,instead of…
Perhaps the writer’s palette is laced with crimson.Thorns of rosebuds piercing the…
My garrotted soul is reaching out to you. Searching for glimmers of once was.Are your…