essential (Remove filter)
In Este
In Este the vineyards weeped under the expanding
fog. Her empty eyes stared at me and
in their reverberating darkness I was trapped as
her spirit formed aged velvet crystals in my glass.
Violins scented of spring and a tiny droplet from her
barefooted dance inundated the morning breeze.
My foot stamped the gravel as a thinly crusted air
forced its way into my...
Monday 20th February 2012 11:04 pm
Recent Comments
Dewi Runtuwene on Fades
6 hours ago
Red Brick Keshner on a dance between skies
7 hours ago
Hélène on a dance between skies
15 hours ago
Tom Doolan on Wishes Come True
1 day ago
Yanma Hidayah on “I Don’t Believe in My Wings”
1 day ago
Stephen Gospage on Stopping the Cuts
1 day ago
Stephen Gospage on According to the poet
1 day ago
Tom Doolan on Wishes Come True
1 day ago
David RL Moore on The nutritional value of a bullet
1 day ago
David RL Moore on According to the poet
1 day ago