Old Hands by Rippled Sea

Now,
imagine your lips upon his unironed face.
When he was young,
it was you he chased.

Four Feet One Bed

4feet1bed4feet1bed   “True love belongs to the truly mad,” David once said. And instead of a pause or a period he ended the sentence with a soft and pleasant pout upon my wanting head. After that, it always felt warm, my heart that is. I used to watch him from the silver rusted mirror in my boudoir; eyes shut, like a babe…

The Wilderness

Quiet, its weathered lids, canopy above
your quick-flirting eyes,
And you,

You cannot woo it,
even should you want to.
For it is the wild that drowns unmerciful structures;
It doe not speak through electrical wires
Nor does deal in self-devouring gold.

The Chandelier

High above the rafters is where we all doth perch

Cloud high with laughter our feet dear touch the earth.

All to: THE END.

I did not know from whence I came, only that I had come

I was born in the middle of this funny feeling

And I did not seek to escape it.