But now I’m here, sipping the dew//Ambrosia-drink and treacle-stew//Buried in my eminent dole//All I ask is if you pass through//Share the strangest piece of you
The Ambrosial Spark, pt. I
She held it in her eye. That is not to say it was in any way figurative, for eyes have ethereal tendrils that are capable of grasping... Attention, mind, emotion, consciousness, ethos, what have you. You and I know this to be true. Too many nights do I lay awake in bed, captivated by a... Continue Reading →
December Rose 