Steam from my lips fogs the glass//Until my features are all veiled...
Upon the Veiling Glass
Lovely Veils
And are not hard lines the very things that define form, else I be undisciplined splashes of ambiguity and not my current self
Until I Keep Going
Staring down at the ground, heart pounding... three thousand feet down, or am I standing at the bottom? I can't tell from here. The black veil surrounds me, and its name is Life. It is alive and changing, but not to my discernment. All I know is it's just the ledge, mirror, and me. Why can't... Continue Reading →
December Rose 