The fall
October’s bones, bathed in grape juice and apple cider, laid on the pillows as if some holy relics, waiting to be worshiped by the commoners uninitiated in the art of forgetting about life. Beyond the window, the cloudy dawn caressed, like the hand of a lover intoxicated with autumn, the sweet curve of the mountain … Continue reading
note – sonnet
along the boulevard of naked dreams a graphite-wounded paper floats at ease caressed by salty smiles and honeyed beams and carried by an old and restless breeze. on it – just a few thoughts. a slice of soul that’s kept alive by aid of shivers. sand was never able to erase the whole handwritten message. … Continue reading
on the field of dust
i’m a nonbeliever. i don’t believe in the ghost of sands haunting my bones and neither in the tears shed by stones on the roadside at the thought of some grain of dust that came to die in their bosom. instead of contemplating illusions of mud flowing lazily through my veins rugged with too much … Continue reading
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
