On the cold mornings Or days when washing hangs in my r… My window glazes and there are thr… I don’t clear them I wonder if the larger are mine, a…

Dulce et decorum est mori est Because at least that way it’s don… scattered ashes in the wind lodged in the soil, waving at worm… I couldn’t give a shit

I am no word-smith I am the anvil Beaten with a hard And heated hammer Scolded by others’

Waiting Is exhausting but I just keep on Waiting Because I think you’re worth it Even though I lapse and sometimes

The light of evening: Always wondered what Was so special about it But you dancing by Yourself and me

You’d think it was magic the way You can’t make time What do I do then? Do I dance naked under the moon In blood rituals or some such beca…

I drink far less water than I sho… And usually when I do I am breaking for breath Or singing too hard Nothing is better though

An image of foul fancy plagues me. A crowded desert of concrete; I see it all through artificial ey… Argus, though none sleep now. No… Wild eyed, we speak silence and