Frame

Eyelids start to flutter like a camera made to holdUs in a moment that was warm before the blood was turning coldEnough to stop us in our tracks before the facts were ever toldIn any way that really mattered and they mattered more than gold Hidden neath a summit that we knew we couldn't reachUntil … Continue reading Frame

Reserve

Perhaps I hadn't rushed enoughTo see her 'neath the blush of usWhere life delivered, roughly thus,The blurring light of metaphorsOf candles so abruptly snuffedSo with a turn of tracer viewsDid night, when slipping, grace her viewsWhere mine was naught but waste and bruiseTo see the path we've settled forWith visage false and face bemusedFor though … Continue reading Reserve