...like the soft, wild child soul that gets together bits of sounds and words, tears and sighs from the tips of waves and the crests of skies...and makes it poetry.
Today the moon was like that.
Today the moon was like that.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Day 38 of 108
I am not quite sure how to describe todat. Some parts were rough. Most was easy. A lot of old narratives kept washing up inside my head. I a...
No comments:
Post a Comment