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.…
She was made of winea wild child who loved to wear redand fluid-like dresses. When she’d come around,I’d pull out my boatand set sail on…