Musings on Life, Love, and Linguine-Poetry & Writing
She fears the dark for then he comes from shadowed recesses a hastening; ragged breaths, fetid and vile, a flurry of wings death, a handsome beast her heart his nightly feast, alive yet not
The sacred truth, now broken as lies spill from his lips his tongue blood-red and thick with the stain of wine
She lives on Catshole Lane with all the common cats on the Isle of Man. She’s beautiful, hot and exotic, a pure Siamese with almond-shaped eyes as blue as the sea and a long graceful tail. She, an outsider shunned by all the… Continue Reading “The Siamese on Catshole Lane”
When the willows weep at night they call to the flower moon Come and spread your light through our slender tendrils as beetles scurry underfoot banish the deepening gloom.
Golden caramel eyes stalking her across the sea of strangers a shiver runs up her spine as she senses impending danger.
She fought the gorgeous storm with all her delicate strength Spent and tired, at last she fell giving in to the mighty wind.
Collecting porcelain pieces of her fractured heart the girl once so innocent, now wary and guarded works to ease the pain from the knifelike shards creating a masterpiece out of her broken parts.
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