Swimming in a glass of water
the power of imagination and a teacher who felt there were no wrong answers
Silences
Sleep has left my eyes Like power the bow of an aged hunter While my parchments remain unfilled And my poems stopped in my mouth. I toss like a mooning lunatic Tear like the near claws of this werewolf Not finding, seeking, solace From this unceasing itch To see you, smiling in the silence with […]
Sleep has left my eyes
Like power the bow of an aged hunter
While my parchments remain unfilled
And my poems stopped in my mouth.
I toss like a mooning lunatic
Tear like the near claws of this werewolf
Not finding, seeking, solace
From this unceasing itch
To see you, smiling
in the silence with me.