A wanton moon
This wanton moon that makes me crave your innocence of marble nape my hands are ice, come be my slave I’ll steal your softness in my cape. I lust for […]
Category Archives: sonnet
Morning on the metro
In chthonic snaking underneath we’re crammed commuting flesh to flesh; with faces luminent, as if our death: is closer now when brought us fresh a morning when from Manchester we […]
Only when you sleep
You carry in your wildness scent of moonlight and in your breath is blossom and the songs of graveyards, you are both the taste of night and awkward singe of […]
Perfume of you
You are scent of moss-rose, amber, dew a starlit sky, the daisy meadow late in June. You are sense of thunder, the wind that blew a bashful whiff of lavender […]
Both life and cause of death
You’re butterfly effect — causality of songs, the meadowlark of summer days, the footsteps swallowed in mortality, an aftermath from nights and morphine daze. You’re both the timpani and piccola, […]
