He placed the roses down with so much care,
their breath became the sunlight, fading green,
which left a tender shadow on the stair,
and gave a final stroke of tourmaline
to soft, forgotten...
still life on stairwell
Waters are cold and clammy,
These words I write down aren't poetic.
These words I write down aren't really erotic.
These words I write down are all I have
to express my emotions.
These four poems I have written
Straight from the Heart IV
Stone Cold April Snowby
Straight from the Heartby
Strings, musings onby
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