The prose she hones all winter is wreathed in magic, sex and wonder.
Come spring, will she, I ponder, still pen me essays of her darkest hour.
The prose she hones.
The prose she hones all winter is wreathed in magic, sex and wonder.
Come spring, will she, I ponder, still pen me essays of her darkest hour.
nickreeves 
Very cool!
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Nice! 👌
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Beautiful and poignant
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Hey! Thanks, Janet! xo
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What a great title.
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I’m sorry. The artwork and poem too. But the title is really excellent.
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Hahaha! Thanks Jeff!
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the bird immaculate the angel painfully beautiful thanks for sharing master Reeves xo
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Flights of fancy or fantasy.
Happy you enjoyed xo
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I love this!! It’s an entire story in two short lines. Bravo! (I like the image as well.)
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Is it? How ace! I just need to make it into a page and then…a second?! Thank you, Liz.
xo
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Nope, it’s complete. (You’re welcome, Nick.)
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xoxo
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