passion (Remove filter)
Janus
Janus
When we were young
we raged against the storm
biting at our hormones,
engulfing our senses
and our sensibilities.
The deep penetrating
oxblood on our
Doctor Martin boots
polished
to an indignant sheen.
Pre-conditioner hair,
split ends and acne,
Shredded Wheat moustache.
A groove worn on the chin
by pondering fingers.
Myopic ...
Wednesday 1st February 2017 7:10 pm
Recent Comments
Auracle on The Magic in Mundane
13 minutes ago
Bethany Sallis on Against the background of a Winter Sky
31 minutes ago
David RL Moore on Against the background of a Winter Sky
52 minutes ago
Bethany Sallis on Against the background of a Winter Sky
1 hour ago
John Coopey on THE NOB NURSE 2
1 hour ago
David RL Moore on Against the background of a Winter Sky
1 hour ago
Rasa Kabaila on The Magic in Mundane
5 hours ago
Bethany Sallis on Against the background of a Winter Sky
10 hours ago
John Coopey on The Gift of Words
10 hours ago
Stephen Atkinson on The Gift of Words
11 hours ago