Tuesday, 10 March 2015

gypsy winged soul

through our disturbing
we climbed through
me with cracked walls and
beneath my chin i see.
their station wagon words
are free; forest green eyes.
two worlds colliding, crying
crystal tolerance in between
their theory of us;
i am an archaeologist untamed.
i am your naked pages of truth and
white; gypsy winged soul.


granted avalanche

when we arrived  the amulet was damaged and  broke the moments erased. the moment you get out of that. it has left our warped feeling of wha...