Luna. {poetry}
She dipped her bones to blood
And found worth about her noble flood
Like woman
She birthed her sin to fearful sound
Browsing Tag:
Emily Purcell
To My Youth. {poetry}
I hope your laughter tastes
Like wine
And stains burgundy the fragile wind
A Holy Rhythm. {poetry}
To age he finally cries
Cruelly, he limps atop time, crippled only in the throes of its touch
Fighting and fleeing the throngs that have descended into its cold and callused crypt