Midnight walking
Her path across the garden is from moonlight moth-winged; barefoot-firm she’s neither fragile nor she’s fleeing, she’s only searching luminescence for her flaming flesh. She knows his scent of cinnamon […]
Her path across the garden is from moonlight moth-winged; barefoot-firm she’s neither fragile nor she’s fleeing, she’s only searching luminescence for her flaming flesh. She knows his scent of cinnamon […]
“Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.” — Albert Einstein
the woes and dreams of a twenty-something with too many feelings
Now we see through a glass, darkly
A Little Writing Workshop of Horrors.
rejuvenatement - not retirement
words and scribble.
The Quantumverse
Poetry
About fantastical places and other stuff
Sharing my thoughts, poems, travel & art