passion. illicit (Remove filter)
I Remember Bren
tattooed, sweat drenched, confessional, this rose sopped ecstasy I maybe tested through a full glass yet, my word, your flavour so fresh as the closest and sweetest kept secret, tasted: tested: approved as complicit dew through years of spilt guilt, when ventured pleasure ordered, I, insect twixt the lingered crawl along villous cinnamon and apricot stole, long reflections through the viscid, over...
Tuesday 27th May 2014 9:20 pm
Recent Comments
David RL Moore on Too late too late
15 hours ago
Rolph David on Love The Light, Embrace The Rain
15 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The roads taken
19 hours ago
Red Brick Keshner on still, the Earth breathes
19 hours ago
Marnanel Thurman on The roads taken
19 hours ago
Red Brick Keshner on where shadows do not drown
19 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The Empty Streets of Ego’s March
20 hours ago
Larisa Rzhepishevska on The Policemen Arrest The Men.
21 hours ago
Ray Miller on The Empty Streets of Ego’s March
21 hours ago
Ray Miller on The roads taken
21 hours ago