She had an eye, and a hole. Half-blind. No eye on the left side; just a hole. The right eye was looking at me with the power of two. It was like a singular green light was bathing my soul with wisdom.
By Martha Margincold4 years ago in Fiction
The sea has spoken to me, about the colour I see. ‘Are you sure I am blue?’, she asks. ‘I come and go, I bring up and take back’’.
By Martha Margincold5 years ago in Poets
