Monday, 23 February 2015

shorter awakes

Brush strokes fading
Down my backs’ change.
I cannot force us backwards
Rather, I will summon our art
Into the fine lines of our lives.
Crafting my neck around
Your black tones;

I am complete.

preferred idle eyes

started creating paperback  tears out of idle pen hands,  and look where it took us. i've encountered space between us but I've blur...