And so I sit, waiting for it to rain again...
"...tea is at four. There's plenty of it. You are welcome any time. Don't bother knocking!" -Bilbo Baggins
There's nothing left inside// the ink well is dry, my hand was stayed// nothing more to confide// silence on an empty stage
I will not be torn apart by prideful fingertips... Yours or mine.
The sway and croon of the evening's orchestration became a deafening cascade of the purest emotion, as can be expected from any young boy who has not yet learned to know any better or any worse. Innocence crystalline as a sunset on the sea's horizon glistened and glanced off of the greenhouse's glass walls, and... Continue Reading →