The sun is missing today, the sky has clouded your judgement. How long must we wait to wait once again? Sometimes I feel like laying down, but there's glass in the grass.
Spring's steams spring slithering snakes sneaking up on me, suppress suspicions, suppose you stagger, I'll still sustain sudden shifts of searing sentiments.
I play with words like they're emotions, you tell me words are merely emotions unboxed.
YOU ARE READING
Flights of Fancy
PoetryThere is another dimension beyond that which is known to fictional characters. A collection of short stories, poems, snippets, vignettes, and everything else that crosses my mind and has no place in my current publications, or is waiting in the wing...
