After making love, we drove around the greatest city in the world (for access to the Lakes). You pointed out the citadel and cathedral, painted childhood haunts as gold, wove passages that, on your lips, appointed saints with majesty.
Z A beak of sleep, painted crudely on a tank, becomes tainted, reflected, a skewed boot, forever glancing off a surface; destructive and distasteful as O’Brien suggested. V Peace, askance, becomes a spade; a blade to dig a grave with; a tricky proposition in any city street. The school of matter over mind: predictive. Letters … Continue reading Face/Value
Jackdaws and witches tapping watches, stripping you to the bone. Some still can't say your name without stretching all the wrong vowels. I hear your voice, I'm ankle-deep in Bluebells. My red penknife unfolds. I'm scratching your initials. * Trap-doors every Monday morning. Cornflowers, my boots are soiled. The great birds, they are clapping the … Continue reading Jackdaws & Witches #dVerse #poetry
nickreeves 