I've lived with//Vicariously numb fingertips//I have sat//In surrogate silence//This life is mine to save//Leaving cut roses on your grave
Cut Roses
Yours Or Mine
I will not be torn apart by prideful fingertips... Yours or mine.
Ever On the Wing, pt. III
Chimeric ebullience is all my vessel Swathing as the springtime mistral For enthralling and enchanting is all that might stupefy Lest you crack the icy enamel with a sanguine sigh And take to the wing as a swift Agile
December Rose 