Monthly Archives: May 2013

These feeble remarks will not sound out the consonants of the soul with cadence and fervour.

…nor will the sand slip between these moments where past marks bruise the coarse surface of the day. …nor will the hours fold gently into blankets, white and emptied, whose grace turned humbly from the eyes of god. …nor will … Continue reading

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An Ode to Emptied Pockets

I pulled the lint from my pockets and called you mine. In the chance of there being nothing left, I appoint you as heir to this misery. Seeing that you had left the soil to garden the city streets, I … Continue reading

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