what a recondite day for a funeral the sky the colour of wind with it’s abstruse way of connecting and… Read more (re-posted in honour of the passing of a young friend)
Tag: mourning
Center of Night
I remember everything, a curse in center of night, when cat stares through me, and clock tick-tocks witching hour is…
it poemed through your death…
…the colour from her dream, it drained right through dimensions, the syntax, and the stream. Euphonious not to mourners the… Read more it poemed through your death…