Could you fire up the stars?
Pent-up passion played over the nervous system.
I could’ve taken anthurium.
My dearest Poetry, I cannot comprehend you.
Let me be your clay.
No time for sugar sachets.
I wear my heart on my jacket sleeve
Breathe away your Sunday gown And wipe off that after-frown With your natural make-up Find yourself without looking And let… Read more All The Stupid Things
I was in a library.
Doctor Diabolical and I decided to collect some ideas and write on them. Here is the first one. Idea: Dancing in… Read more A Spotlit Harvest