Signs Sighs Sights
One day we were converted into poetry and poetry concealed us from the rest conceited.
8 hours, 38 minutes ago
“…he used to paint the music that she used to play…”
1 day ago
3 days, 5 hours ago
I can’t follow you for I’m almost near, a lover’s whisper in your ear.
5 days, 7 hours ago
Some thoughts are so exclusively excursive that they appear once in a time and can not be replaced or repeated twice but uttered once and forgotten to remember once again in a time to make a recursive sense.
5 days, 22 hours ago
“…it doesn’t shine for me as it did before and I accept it as a beautiful rapid exception…”
6 days, 4 hours ago
“…the rain was blind on Sunday and she was blending loving rhymes…”
1 week, 2 days ago