November Rorschach

Morning glides slowly along the wings of a dragonfly frozen in a corner and my window sighs, blessed with sunlight – November kisses seconds with the tenderness of one who knows that time is merely the perfume of existence. I see myself in a mirror through thick layers of smoke, “A thousand kisses deep” filling … Continue reading

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sonnet in g minor

the grinning gray geometry of thoughts extends its gimpy limbs with gritty skin into the hidden meaning of “why not’s” like greedy tentacles that groan and spin, and nude, the gorgeous gravity of time is flaunting glamorously beads of sand attempting vainly to conceal the grime grotesquely tarnishing “because”’s land. a gaud is every second, … Continue reading

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