Pluck a thin string into a melancholic tune, watch it grow in sonic synesthesia
Thin
Strangest Piece of You
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 Deepest Silhouette
Stretched thin and tight like a thread or "Like butter over too much bread" As Bilbo once said No, more like wires of a marionette No, no, they're so quick to forget Most like the strings of a quartet Because, thin and taut and whet Is less of a full moon, more lunette Curved as a smile, and... Continue Reading →
December Rose 