Flick of the Eye
Spread between sea and glue: blades a running
Through soft white meadows burnt in chilled winds sorrow.
Tomorrow a word, maybe remembered, for gritted teeth are crumbling. 133 more words
Flickr, Joana CeccarelliWhen I have a daughter, I will tell her that fairytales are nice, but misleading. A beast is usually just that – few turn out to be princes. 31 more words