The Other SiBLING

Created: 07/21/2008 6:45am

Volumes of knowledge drip through your fingers And are quietly funneled back to the old woodshed, overgrown with weeds and broken out windows, smelling of aged, water soaked timber And from there I observe you With every glare With every sound With every head-humming sound and heart-thump...

Comments: 0

(read entire)