She walks in smokea slow burning incenseedging in reverse. I breathe her in deep,And feel hercurling into my lungs,a warningthat smells likesieged perfumeburnt but sweet.…
Poet & Storyteller
She walks in smokea slow burning incenseedging in reverse. I breathe her in deep,And feel hercurling into my lungs,a warningthat smells likesieged perfumeburnt but sweet.…
He is her mirror,The one she stands beforeWhether things are good or bad.Until she walks away,She doesn’t understandThe cracks spreadingAcross her face,Ignoring the obviousShe applies…
And when you walk away,when the doors to your armsare no longer open,where do I goto wander the thoughtsthat keep me warm and snug? There…