not really anyone's fault but my own (Remove filter)
birch-backed remnants of smaller cities
and with that, he put the ember out in the center of his palm, a pain to be carried everywhere. A momento to the nonversation, to half-listening, and to feigned interest. A small simulacra of the mutual, the mentholated, the swirling smoke staining the ceiling in benign passing of time. A manilla mask of desire. A tonguing soreness, piqued at will with the wringing of hands -- a ringing informed b...
Sunday 9th May 2021 11:11 pm
Recent Comments
R A Porter on The Eternal Flame
7 hours ago
David RL Moore on You can kill some of the people some of the time but you can't kill all of the people all of the time
10 hours ago
leon stolgard on HOPE!
10 hours ago
rob1967able on Colony 2B
11 hours ago
Landi Cruz on You can kill some of the people some of the time but you can't kill all of the people all of the time
11 hours ago
leon stolgard on In our lost curved ball world
12 hours ago
Landi Cruz on evensong
12 hours ago
David R Mellor on A Little Bird
12 hours ago
David R Mellor on A Little Bird
12 hours ago
Landi Cruz on evensong
12 hours ago