Pull up a chair and relax. This is where I write, with my eyes. Stay as long as you like. You'll find me, where the wild roses grow ♥
time-worn with comings and goings
of former inhabitants,
already gathering cobwebs
Life pulsates here too/ in each knot & crevice/ unmindful of cobwebs sway.
the red wave goodbye
is tufted along
fastened by the weathered
frequencies of our leaning in
and how we perch up high
sometimes you have
to mass the bone
where you close your eyes
to sing those songs
of six pence
with your pockets
stored full of rye
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