It never stands for direct description,
this simmering confusion when it
boils to miracle, to rain over
upturned face. Its radiance runs
often with burn scars, away from
orchestral strings, into wet socks.
Soulspeak
Old friend, talking.
Old friend, talking.
It never stands for direct description,
this simmering confusion when it
boils to miracle, to rain over
upturned face. Its radiance runs
often with burn scars, away from
orchestral strings, into wet socks.
Soulspeak or Solespeak? (because of the socks)
Hah! Kicking myself I missed that opportunity
: )