Saturday, 21 January 2012

Small Stone - Jan 21st

Searing irons thrust upwards through the raging inferno. In a self-induced medieval torture of rising bile, sharp, acrid explosions in poppy red burn raw tracts through my chest. In a bitter malady of regret I recall why I stopped drinking red wine.

Small Stone - Jan 20th

Bright sun follows rain, reveals bare branch, crystal draped.
A wealth of shimmering diamonds hung on a slender brown throat.