We flow, blurring the fading wike between writer and write
I'll gather them all in a crumpled pile and watch as they writhe and convulse beneath the flame. Suddenly, they are gone. It's tragic that I can't do the same.
Some time around noon, you'll give me a call//Rolling around, laughing, and together//We'll fall
A little bit of this, a little bit of that
- Renee verona -
WORDS TO AMUSE YOU
Organic Gardening tips
Travel stories (Told differently)