I'm just trying to
find my way in a world
with a million roads
less travelled by.
Were you the last person to open the Door? And a dull tin shakes and coughs A mirage of clues envisioned, nails scrape back the paper to reveal
By Caspian Blue5 years ago in Poets
Pupils wide and perfect circles, black as the void sprayed with ice chips above our heads. It is distant, alien and all too close.
teakwood mahogany matte down dark as the earth under the sun sweatskin slipping in lakelike liquid not to drown
