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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